


Shards

by escherlat



Category: Life Is Strange (Video Game)
Genre: Depiction of Suicide, Depression, F/F, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Multiple Maxs, Self-Harm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-24
Updated: 2019-02-27
Packaged: 2019-10-15 09:48:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 91,156
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17526437
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/escherlat/pseuds/escherlat
Summary: Months after The Choice, Max Caulfield learns she didn't cause the storm which threatened Arcadia Bay. She decides to go back to save Chloe, but at what cost? Finding herself in a new reality, Max must come to grips with what she lost, what she gained, and a whole new struggle that she could never have anticipated.





	1. Pain

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Better Then](https://archiveofourown.org/works/6164365) by [IsraelBlargh](https://archiveofourown.org/users/IsraelBlargh/pseuds/IsraelBlargh). 



The faint sound of wind in the trees is reminiscent of a distant river tumbling over rocks. Far below, the echo of surf breaking against the cliff provides a pleasing complement. The sounds are soothing amidst the chaos of life.

Chloe and I sit together on the bench, watching the distant crests and the birds playing among them. We enjoy coming here together; it’s our special place where no one disturbs us. My eyes close, letting the calming sounds wash over me.

“Whatcha thinking, Super Max?”

Her words flutter my eyes open and I look at her. A smile plays at her lips and one arm lays on the back of the bench. I want to smile at her, but my mouth turns downward instead. The waves in the bay pull my eyes away.

“What I’m always thinking about,” I reply. “You. My choice.”

“Whenever I look at Arcadia Bay from here, my heart hurts. There are so many people I hurt…so much pain.”

Tears trickle down my cheeks as I look at her. “Most of all, I hurt you.”

Chloe gives me that cocky smile she has sometimes. Her smile intensifies the pain inside me. She lays her hand atop mine. Something breaks free and lodges in my throat.

“You’re the Time Lord, Max. You can undo the pain.”

The words wrench a sob from me. Gravity seems to fight my breathing, making me struggle for air. Chloe slowly fades from view as tears fall from my face.

“I wish I could, Chloe, I wish I could. I miss you.” My voice is choked by sobs. Pulling my legs up, I bury my face into my knees.

Today marks six months since Chloe died. Six months since she stood on that cliff and told me how selfish she’d been. Six months since she selflessly offered her own life for all of Arcadia Bay.

This reality is what she wanted, right? She gave her life so Arcadia Bay could live. So I could live.

Only I am not living, not really. All I want is to see her again, to touch her, to hear her.

It’s supposed to be better by now, isn’t it?

Six months on and she still rules my world.

Six months on and she dies in my nightmares.

I ask myself the same question: why did Chloe have to die?

There is no answer to that question and I fear there never will be.

A hand rests on my shoulder, bringing me out of my funk. Kate. My watery eyes peer at her as my hand reaches out to her. She knows where to find me, she always does. She takes my hand and sits close to me on the bench.

“Hey,” she says. Her voice soft. No “why are you here?”, no “are you ok?” Because she knows I’m not.

My decision to sacrifice Chloe spared Kate much of the drama, pain, and grief she experienced in the other timeline. She never found herself on the roof, because Nathan shot first and brought Jefferson down.

She got the help she needed. Regular counseling and a support group or friends helped her step away from that dark place. Before my own guilt became too much I was part of that group as well.

Kate and I were friends then, and now. Day after day she saw me withdrawing from life. Not eating. Pushing friends away. She recognized what was happening and wouldn’t let me go. When I tried to ignore her, or push her away, she pulled me closer.

It doesn’t matter to her that she doesn’t fully understand my loss and pain. I’m not sure I understand it either. Chloe was a friend I abandoned for five years. That week spent together brought back so many thoughts and feelings I thought long buried. It ended on a possibility I don’t understand, crushed by a decision no one should face.

To Kate all that matters is I need help, I need a friend. She shared with me many things she learned from her own counseling sessions. From her I learned how to devise a safety plan, how ground myself and more.

“It’s so beautiful up here.” Her voice is soft as if afraid to break the gentle sounds of nature. My response is to nod and look out across the bay again.

Far distant, beyond the bay, the ocean glitters with the color of Chloe’s eyes. She was so strong that day, and I am not. My eyes are drawn to that color and I find myself standing and walking close to the edge. Beside me I feel Kate hurry close, her arm going around my shoulder.

_Jump! Be free!_

The surf below beckons me, promising release in its embrace. I push aside the thoughts, trying to focus on Kate’s arm grounding me in reality. “I keep thinking…it should have been different. She never should have been in that bathroom with Nathan.” My voice is filled with the guilt and loathing I feel for myself.

She pulls me tight, saying, “We’ll get through this. Together.”

A weak smile flits across my face. Her words remind me of Chloe and I together on this cliff during the storm. She was my number one priority. And I sent her to her death. It started five years ago when I let life and my own insecurities keep me away from her.

“Max Caulfield? Don’t you forget about me.” A shudder runs through me as her words tear apart my heart. How could I ever forget her?

What’s the use of time control if it only results in pain?

Kate loops her arm around mine, saying, “Let’s get out of here.” I nod my assent and we leave.

* * *

“You don’t know who the fuck I am or who you’re messing around with!”

“Where’d you get that? What are you doing? Come on, put that thing down!”

“Don’t EVER tell me what to do. I’m so SICK of people trying to control me!”

“You are going to get in hella more trouble for this than drugs-”

“Nobody would ever even miss your ‘punk ass’ would they?”

“Get that gun away from me, psycho!”

A gun fires.

“No!” My scream is a muffled sound falling dead to the floor. Around me the brightness of the bathroom fades into darkness. My heart pounds in me. I have to get to the restroom! I have to save Chloe!

Something is tangling my legs and I scramble to free myself. I’m crying Chloe’s name, over and over, as I feel seconds, and her life, slipping away.

Hands grab my wrists, pulling them. Someone is calling my name. It doesn’t matter! I don’t matter! I have to save Chloe!

“Let me go,” I yell, “I have to save Chloe!”

A wrist is free and I’m struggling harder. “I have to go! I have to save her!” My breath is short and I taste salt. Light flicks on, bright and blinding. My eyes screw shut and I turn my head from it.

“Max!” It’s Kate’s voice. My shoulders sag and I collapse. “Oh, Max,” Kate says, her voice warm and tender. Her arms are around me, supporting me.

Don’t look at me Kate! I don’t want you to see me like this!

The thoughts are pointless. Kate has seen me in so much worse conditions. She pulls me toward her, not letting me get away. My head is on her lap and she’s stroking my hair. It’s only now that I realize I’m crying. It’s tears that I taste.

As her hands glide through my hair she tells me, “It’s ok to cry, Max. It’s ok to feel and let it out.” And she puts in front of me a pillow. Pushing my face into it I vent my pain and guilt and loss into it. All through it she calmly strokes my hair, giving me little reminders to feel, and hear, and breathe.

The terror of the nightmare slowly fades as I vent everything into the pillow. After a long scream, the pain seeps out of me, and my breathing evens out. The nightmare is the same. Each time my mind replays Chloe being killed by Nathan. The decision I felt I had to make.

Some three months ago Kate started sleeping in my room. Before that I got little sleep. The nightmares happened every night. I’m sure I looked like the walking dead for months. My grades, already poor, had become worse.

With her in my room, the nightmares still visited me, but less frequently. When they do happen, she helps me get back to sleep, something I was never able to do on my own. The plans and tools she shared before, I had failed to use as well. Under her care she helped me adopt tools to help when my guilt seemed too much to deal with.

Kate’s fingers, soft and warm, and her words sooth my fears. My mind drifts to a memory, one that only I hold. During one of our conversations, Chloe described Rachel as her Angel. At the time that statement had driven a dagger of jealousy and guilt into me. Right now, Kate is my Angel. I finally understand what Chloe meant.

* * *

Tuesday dawns, a school day. I awaken with a start as I feel a body pressing against me. It takes a few minutes of panicked thinking before I remember it’s Kate. Her presence reminds me to use one of my grounding exercises, focus on my breathing. In and out, I count the breaths. The panic eases.

I’m still lying with my head on Kate. She slumped over in the night, curled around me. Rising without disturbing her, I ready myself for the day.

I don’t attend class. I can’t. The emptiness and ache are too powerful. Instead, I spend the day visiting the junkyard and her gravesite. Reliving memories and walking a painful path. Keeping her memory and my guilt alive.

Kneeling I trace the letters on the headstone: Chloe Elizabeth Price, Daughter. She lays next to her father, something I think she would have wanted.

I lay a cluster of blue flowers before the headstone, my monthly custom.

One thing that makes this so much harder is no one fully understands the extent of my loss. Really who could? Who could I talk to that wouldn’t think I’m crazy?

Oh yes, Chloe Price and I had all sorts of adventures! I saved her countless times from death because I could travel through time. Only I had to let her die to save a fucking town that didn’t fucking care about her! I had to let her die feeling unloved and abandoned.

Instead I have to bear the looks and the gossip. People are constantly wondering “when will Max move on”; their statements litter my daily path through life. They don’t know how these add to the ache I feel inside. They don’t know how these fuel my guilt.

I stretch out on her grave, staring at the sky. It’s what I do whenever I visit. It’s the closest I’ll ever be to her now that she’s gone. The sky above is a deep blue. A faint breeze stirs the grass around me. It riffles the trees and my hair. The beauty and peace is lost on me. The picture of the blue butterfly is clutched to my chest.

I want to slip into a never ending sleep, here on her grave.

_You’d fuck that up somehow._

My self-hatred rarely leaves me alone.

After the shooting, on Saturday, my parents drove down. They wanted to take me home to Seattle. In a surprising Chloe-like moment, I told them to fuck off. I was not leaving her resting place. In a gesture of supreme understanding, they didn’t push me. They said they’d be here at the end of the school year. They continue to send me texts and notes.

I am still considered ‘at risk.’A little over four months ago I gave into my overwhelming guilt and tried to end my life. My parents understandably were freaked and tried again to take me away. I refused. Daily calls and biweekly visits supplemented the texts and notes.

I dread those calls, seeing my parents and realizing now I’m the disappointing daughter. They won’t say it but I see it in their glances, between the lines in their notes. Another one of their visits is scheduled this weekend. Another opportunity for them to get me to let go of the past.

Kate moved into my room soon after my attempt, to watch and help me. Nights of broken sleep next to her replaced nights of no sleep. I don’t deserve her.

Each day is a reminder that I am the reason Chloe is in the ground. Five years where I knew Chloe needed a friend, knew she needed me, and I’d let my awkwardness and anxiety get the better of me. Nathan is not the real reason Chloe is in the ground. I am.

At long last my guilt leaves to tear me down another time. My sightless eyes stare at the sky. I am exhausted, physically, mentally, and emotionally. How I want to succumb to the sleep that lurks at the edges of my mind. How I want release, a permanent release. It doesn’t come.

What is the fucking point of it all?

Gathering my strength I stand, rubbing my face. My last stop is Two Whales diner for lunch. I start walking toward the cemetery entrance. Halfway there I stop and look back, to have a final glimpse of her.

Something I see gives me pause. I squint for a better look. Something blue hovers around her grave. My eyes widen and I take a step backwards. Are my eyes deceiving me? My foot shuffles forward, then break into a run. Sliding to a halt in front of the grave, my heart pounding, I look at what caught my eye.

My heart falls. The blue I spied is nothing more than a few dry flower petals. They lie atop the gravestone. My vision darkens and I lean against the stone. “What did you fucking expect, Max,” I mutter. “It’s not real. She’s not real. SHE’S GONE!”

My hands clench at the gravestone with all my might. The stone doesn’t yield. At last I let go, my arms cramped from the effort. Clenching my hands at my side, I look again at the words carved in stone. I put her there! A sharp pain explodes in my shoulder again and again. I’m not a friend! I’m not! I’m not!

Breath comes in ragged gasps and my shoulder throbs as I slump against the headstone. Why do I come here? Why do I desecrate her resting place with my foul presence?

I turn and leave the cemetery.

None of the pictures I took that week are with me, lost in another timeline. The only pictures I have of her are from five years ago. Only my memories of that week accompany me. I’ve tried several times to sketch them, but my mind and body refuse, leaving me with scratches on the paper.

Photography is a thing of the past for me. Flashes trigger memories of the dark room. Just holding a camera makes my hands shake. Mark Jefferson’s lasting legacy is that he ruined everything I loved.

Thankfully the photography class is still canceled. Not only does the school need another teacher, they didn’t want to cause further grief for for his former students.

As I near the diner, I look down the street. A splash of blue catches my eye. Warily, I stop and focus. There, near the alley on the other side of the diner is definitely something in the air, blue and fluttering. Unthinking, I take off toward it. The shape flits into the alley, me right behind it.

At the end of the alley I see it fall to the ground near the homeless woman who lives there. I stop before the cardboard she sits on. Again my heart sinks in my chest. The blue shapes on the ground are crumpled pieces of blue tissue paper.

Like my heart, I too sink, falling to my knees. Trembling hands reach out to touch the paper. Why am I seeing these? The memory of the butterfly, my photo of it, is in stark relief in my mind. The damned thing started it all then disappeared. Is this another way for my too punish myself?

Next to me the homeless lady shuffles, trying to move away from me. Brief memories of disjointed conversations with her flit through my head.

“Well hello, Max,” the homeless woman says. She looks at me through the dirt and grime that hazes her face. Her greeting catches me unawares. To my knowledge I haven’t talked to her in this timeline.

“H-Hello,” I say. “How do you know me?” Way to be rude, Max!

“You’re a friend of Joyce’s, aren’t you? She talks about you all the time.”

Oh. I nod, not certain what to say to her. I’m not the chatty person from the other timeline. No mysteries to solve here, just insatiable guilt to placate.

“It’s a shame about her daughter. Chloe. That was her name. So young. Makes you wish you could go back and change things. Maybe stop her from going into that bathroom, you know?”

For a moment I can’t speak. My heart beats faster and my breath catches in my chest. Steadying myself with a hand against the trash bin, I nod and push out a hoarse “yes.”

Swallowing the lump in my throat, I continue, “but what if she’s supposed to die, because if she doesn’t something worse will happen?”

Her eyes are steady as she looks at me. The garbage bin has a stench that tears my eyes, but hers are not bleary. “You speak of fate and destiny? Do you think fate made me homeless?”

That’s not a question I expected from her. I shake my head with a weak, “no.”

“No,” She echoes. She leans closer to me. Ignoring the smell I lean toward her. “Tell you a secret,” she whispers, “It doesn’t work too well without her.”

“W-what doesn’t work without her?”

With a crooked smile she leans back with a laugh. “Well you. You don’t work too well without her.”

My mouthing throat are suddenly dry and parched. I manage to croak out, “why…why do you say that?”

“That’s what Joyce says. We talk sometimes and that’s what she tells me. ‘Max isn’t the same since my Chloe was killed. She blames herself for it, poor girl.’”

“And I say if you can change it then you should.”

Words escape me as what she says settles in my heart. Certainly she can’t know about what happened, or what…what I can do.

“If you go to the diner could you get me some food? That Joyce she’s a nice lady. She gives me food sometimes.”

My mind is whirling from the woman’s words, no longer paying attention to the world around us. Her words keep circling in my mind, “if you can change it then you should.” Similar thoughts have occurred to me plenty of times over the last six months. For some reason, hearing someone else voice them gives them different weight.

Taking several breaths, I manage to compose myself. The woman is looking at me blankly. Flashing a weak smile, I use the garbage bin to stand up.

On auto-pilot, I enter the diner still focused on her words. It wasn’t just the bit about saving Chloe, it was her dismissal of fate.

The rest of the day is a blur. I’m dimly aware that I barely touch my lunch, which is typical for me. My appetite has suffered since October. Everything tastes bland. I lost weight in the last six months, almost dangerously. Joyce and Kate are greatly upset by this, always hovering over me when I do eat.

When I fall asleep that night my mind is still preoccupied by those words. My nightmare pushes those thoughts far away as it takes Kate a long time to bring me back into reality. Tonight’s experience seemed so raw, so painful. It’s as if it was sharpened by the thoughts the homeless lady planted in my head.

Wednesday dawns, and I rejoin the school schedule. It’s hard to focus because I’m thinking of yesterday’s weird events. Twice I thought I spotted a blue butterfly. Each time it was something else. The conversation with the homeless lady. It’s all unsettling. It’s like the foundation of my decision is being questioned.

Time moves slowly through out the day, one class after another. I muddle through tasks and questions. Preoccupation with yesterday takes all my attention. By the time classes are over though I’ve rejected it all. More than once over the months I wrestled with these questions and each time I come back to the same conclusion: saving Chloe disrupted natural laws to the point all of Arcadia Bay was threatened. Letting her…that was the only way.

Mind back in its consistently guilt-ridden path, I return to my dorm room. Kate is there to make sure I’m ok before she goes to her room to practice her violin. We’re chatting and I’m placing my bag on my chair when it happens.

* * *

My vision is seared by the bright flash of lightning shatters and my ears are pummeled by the deafening boom of thunder. I clap my hands over my ears too late. A persistent ringing is all I can hear. The rain makes it hard to see more than a few feet. I’m drenched, clothes and hair sticking to me. “Kate,” I yell and look around. Once again I am on the cliff by the lighthouse; Kate is nowhere in sight.

“No,” I shout, “not again. What is going on?”

I look across the bay expecting to see a tornado. What I see stops my heart. A wall of water, easily a hundred feet high, is approaching Arcadia Bay.

* * *

“Max! Max!” Kate’s voice is distant and muffled. I’m on my side, lying on the floor. My mouth makes a sound, words maybe? Grabbing Kate’s arm I try to sit up. She shrieks and scrambles away. Her hands reach for something then move towards my face.

“Guh,” I say, so intelligent. Kate’s on her knees, close again. One hand holds my shoulder while the other is now holding something white…a tissue. She presses it against my lip.

“What happened?” Her eyes keep flicking from my eyes to my mouth. Raising my hand, I grab hers and pull it away from my mouth. The tissue comes away bloody.

Groaning I take the tissue from her and hold it under my nose. “It’s happening again,” I whisper.

“What? What is happening again?”

Kate’s question drives all thoughts from my mind. What was a whirlwind of thoughts just seconds again is now an empty plain. I struggle to pull a coherent thought from this nothingness. I don’t want to lie to her. At the same time, do I tell her the truth?

“It’s something that happened…during that week. I began having fainting spells and bloody noses.” Kate looks so concerned that my half-truth causes a shameful tinge to creep up my face.

With her help, I make it to my feet. “It only happened that week and stopped.”

“How often did it happen?”

“Uh, two or three times.”

“Did you see a doctor about it?”

I look down as I say, “No…other events drove that from my mind.” It’s so easy to build on that half-truth. It eats at me. What kind of person am I, that I won’t be honest with the one person who really cares?

_A selfish bitch._

She grimaces and doesn’t say anything for a while. Her eyes study my face, my body language. “I’ll skip my violin practice today to stay with you.” It’s useless to argue with her so I just nod my head. I think she suspects I’m not being fully honest.

When she leaves I fall into my desk chair and plop my head on my arms. What am I going to do? Why didn’t I tell Kate the truth? Why did I have the vision? I haven’t even used my power for months! A tiny thought forms in the back of my mind. I let the thought grow and take form.

Perhaps the storm is not linked to time reversal.

The first time I had a vision it was before that weird use of my power, one I’ve never been able to duplicate. In the months since I began referring to it as a ‘hard reset’ because it actually moved me in space and time. Does this mean I’ll do another hard reset soon?

Kate returns and my head is still whirling with ideas. The thoughts I had rejected earlier in the day come back full force on the wings of the vision. With great effort, I focus on my schoolwork so I don’t give her more cause to worry. Well, no more than I usually do.

  


That night the nightmare drags me from my sleep, leaving me shaking and covered with sweat. I think I hurt Kate this time when I struggled but she won’t admit it. She deserves a better friend than me.

  


Thursday is another haze of classes intermingled with depressing thoughts. My grades have slipped a little. Well, ok, my GPA is now at 2.4. If not for Kate and my medical excuses I likely would lose my scholarship.

The weather is warm and sunny and I feel an urge to spend some time outside. A bench in the courtyard is where I park myself. It’s a great place to watch life and the world around me. It also gives me plenty of time for reflection.

At the far end of the yard is Samuel. I watch him working on the irrigation system. The more I watch the more something pulls me toward him. Before I realize it I’m off the bench and walking to him.

“Hi Samuel.”

He jerks upright and faces me. “Hello, Max,” he says. His eyes look at me without seeing me.

“What are you doing?”

“Oh, Samuel is checking the water lines. They need to be ready soon.”

“Ready soon? For what?”

His eyes blink slowly at my question. “It’s spring, Max. Summer is soon and the plants will be thirsty.”

“Oh, yeah…How are the squirrels?”

His eyes suddenly focus on me with an intensity that’s unnerving. “The squirrels are good. Winter was easy on them.”

My head nods though I’m not really paying full attention. “If you could change something, Samuel,” I ask, my words hesitant, “something about your life, would you.”

His head tilts at my question. “What would I change,” he finally asks.

My ears get a little warm as I chase the first thought from my mind. It wasn’t kind and not fair.

“Well…what if you could do something to save someone, someone who died. Would you?”

He again ponders my question. “You mean your friend, Chloe, don’t you?”

His answer chases all thought from my mind. It’s all I can do to nod in agreement.

“Chloe was in a bad place. She should not be in a bad place. Would you keep her from the bad place?”

Bad place? The restroom? Or does he mean something else?

“If I could, yes. What bad place do you mean?”

Again he looks at me, thoughtful in his own way. I wait for an answer, but it doesn’t come. After a while he says, “I have to check the water lines, Max. The lawn will be thirsty soon.” Kneeling, he returns to his work.

My mind no longer seems present in my body. Somehow I am in my room, sitting at my desk, eyes focused on the wall. Kate is on the couch reading.

A vision. A homeless lady denying fate and tell me I’m no good without Chloe. Samuel asking whether I’d keep Chloe from the bad place. Some of it seems far fetched. Without the vision I’d dismiss all of it as the desparate keening of a guilt-ridden mind.

“Are you thinking of her?” Kate’s words are soft, timid.

My head nods. It’s the truth. I am thinking about Chloe and that maybe, just maybe she wasn’t supposed to die. Before the thought can cause any pain I shove it away to focus on my school work.

Sleep is the same as always. Peaceful slumber interrupted by gut wrenching panic and grief. Comfort from Kate, descending into slumber, waking in Kate’s arms. Thank you, Kate.

The next day, Friday, is a weird mixture of sad thoughts, confusion over recent events, and trying to focus on classes. When the last class ends I rush from the building to my dorm room. I want a few moments to think about everything before Kate checks on me.

* * *

I’m sliding down a muddy slope. It’s the lighthouse trail, turned into a torrent by the water and mud streaming down. Lightning shatters the sky. My hands cover my ears moments before the thunder slaps me like a sonic hand.

On my hands and knees I crawl up the trail. The water and mud make standing treacherous. It’s a fight to make it to the top where I can finally stand.

In the open, the wind knocks me about. I’m cold and shivering and coated with mud. Making my way to the bench, I use it to brace myself.

Spread across the bay is the huge wave, rapidly approaching the town. There’s no way anything will escape its destruction. Its magnitude is so much greater than the tornado of the past.

“Why is this happening,” I shout. The wind scatters my words, silencing them. Frantic, I look around. I am alone on the cliff. Lights blink off and on in the town.

* * *

“Max! Max! Wake up!” Kate’s voice is distant, frightened. Again I find myself on the floor of my room. My lip is wet, likely from blood. She pulls me up, but I’m too weak and I collapse against her. My head pounds. She’s wiping my lip with tissues.

“Another…fainting spell,” she asks. I nod my head, not able to speak yet. She looks away as I hold the tissues to my nose. “Max,” her voice is harder than I’ve ever heard it. “What’s really going on?”

“What do you mean,” I mumble.

“In the last few months I’d like to think I came to know you really well. Well enough to know that you’ve been acting…different since Monday. It’s not just the fainting and bloody noses. You are…distracted. You know you can tell me anything, Max. That’s why I’m here.”

There’s disappointment in her voice. It makes me want to crawl under my covers and hide, because I put that disappointment there. Shame crawls up my spine and lodges in my cheeks.

_Max Caulfield, destroyer of friendships!_

For the first time in many months I’m tempted to use a rewind. I feel it lurking at the edge of my mind, just needing an opportunity to leap into action. Kate deserves better than that. She deserves better than me.

“I’m worried about you.” Her voice is so faint I barely hear it. It cuts me deep.

“Y-you’re right,” I manage to squeak. Taking a deep breath I hold it, let it out slowly, then repeat. I climb onto the couch, still weak and awkward. She joins me, waiting, hands clasped and shoulders slumped. We sit there quietly while I collect my thoughts.

“I’m scared, Kate. Scared that what I’m going to tell you…” My voice breaks. Can I actually do this? Her hand brushes mine, intended to reassure me I’m sure. She doesn’t know that her touch makes this harder. I’m starting to suspect something that I’ve been willfully blind to.

After another deep breath, I say, “I’m scared that what I’m going to tell you will drive you away…that-that you won’t like me after I tell you.”

“Why wouldn’t I like you?” There’s genuine puzzlement in her voice, like I just handed her something she never wanted.

I turn my head away from her. “Because I’ve hid things from you, Kate. I haven’t been exactly truthful. Because what I’m going to tell you is unbelievable. Because I’m a horrible person and have done horrible things.”

Silence greets those words. After several moments I feel her take my hand in hers. A warmth travels up toward my heart when she does. My suspicions deepen, but I push them aside.

There are other reasons, rooted in Kate’s upbringing, that I hesitate. What would such a devout, conservative religious person think?

My voice is soft and halting as I begin. “That…incident in the bathroom, last October. That…wasn’t the first time Nathan shot Chloe.” Her hand tightens its hold on mine.

“W-what do you mean, Max?”

Drawing in another breath, I let it out slowly, and look at her. “I think it best if I show you.”

She tilts her head and her eyes don’t want to look at me. “Show me what?”

“I…have some…special abilities, that I discovered last October.”

Please don’t hate me!

_She will._

“In a moment, I will be on the bed.”

“If you find that more comfortable…?”

Shaking my head, I say, “No. I will appear to…like…teleport or something.” Her brow furrows and she leans away. Her hand still holds mine, though. She probably thinks I’ve finally gone off the deep end. Grabbing a pillow, I place it on her lap, then I rise and move to the bed.

“Ok, now you are on your-”

Rewind.

The rewind is slow, making it easy for me to tell when the pillow leaves her lap. I stop the rewind.

Kate’s eyes widen. Her hands twitch and her breathing catches. I give a weak smile then rejoin her on the couch. “What…did you do?” Her voice is hollow and soft. I look at her and she flinches.

“I can control time…and I have visions of the future.”

Her already pale complexion goes even paler. In a weird, awkward stiffness she rises from the couch and stumbles to the door. My heart sinks as I lower my head at her reaction. I’ve lost her.

_Poor Maxie! You can’t even keep one friend! Worthless!_

“Max…” She sounds so scared. My head raises at her voice. She’s at the door, hand on the knob. “How did you…do that?”

“Honestly? I don’t know.”

“You…said you did horrible things. What did you do?” Her voice is so soft I barely hear it.

All sorts of memories run through my head, so many things I try not to think about. What could I share with her that would make sense? Too many memories are from the timeline that no longer exists.

“I let my best friend die when I had the means to save her.”

I hear the knob turn and I bury my face in my hands. I’m not worthy of having a friend. She’s better off to leave and forget me!

Minutes pass. Instead of hearing the door open, I feel a hand on my shoulder. The couch shifts as Kate seats herself. Tears streak my face as I look at her. She is still very pale.

“What you did…just now, I don’t understand it. It scares me. It makes me question everything about you. It goes against…a lot of things I’ve been taught. At the same time I know you, Max. I know…you aren’t…” She doesn’t know how to finish, trailing into silence.

My smile barely touches my lips as I say, “If it helps, I don’t understand any of it either.”

She brightens at that and I see some color return to her.

“You…said that wasn’t the…first time Nathan shot…your friend. What did you mean?”

Facing her I wipe my eyes, push down my thoughts and feelings, and say, “The first time he shot her I rewound time and stopped it.” I thought her eyes were already wide but they became even wider. After a moment she asked, “Then why is she dead now?”

My gaze falls again as I’m flooded with memories. A cold shudder runs up my back as I hear again those words:

“You are going to get in hella more trouble for this than drugs-”

“Nobody would ever even miss your ‘punk ass’ would they?”

”I would. I do,” I think as tears well into my eyes again.

“What I’m going to tell you…has to remain a secret, Kate. No one can know, especially not Chloe’s mom. If she found out…I don’t know what I could do or say to her! No one can know that I can control time.”

Her hand tightens on my shoulder and she says, “I promise.”

“Are you sure you want to hear this? I mean, won’t you be excommunicated or shunned or something like that by listening to me…by being with me?”

“Let me worry about that.”

I know she says that to help me, but I can’t help thinking she’s taking a risk for me.

Looking down at my hands, I begin the story. I try to keep it light and flowing quickly. The dark parts of her story, David hassling her, her attempted suicide, I avoid.

She makes all the right noises at the right parts. Gasping at the surprises and tearing up at the painful parts. During my telling it was as if Chloe was alive again, beside me with her badass charm and smile.

I break down when telling of Chloe’s death in the alternate timeline. “That-that was when I decided my ‘gift’ was actually a curse. I saved her dad, William, from dying. When I..when I returned to the current time it was to discover that two years previous Chloe had been in a car wreck that paralyzed her.”

“We spent time together and then…and then the next morning…she asked me to help her overdose on morphine. She was in constant pain…and her body was shutting down. She wanted…she wanted control over when and how she died…and asked me to help her.”

I bury my face in my hands. My memory of that Chloe is so vivid. The desire to make a final decision under her control so clear in her eyes. The peacefulness of her death as she turned her head, closed her eyes, and sank into the pillow. That last breath flowing out of her body, at last no longer in pain. Fresh tears come as those memories replay.

Yet, inside me something seethes at the memory, burning deep and hot.

Fingers thread through my hair, stroking it, rubbing my back, soothing me. Kate is next to me, holding me as I cry. It feels so good to finally share my story with someone. A great weight lying on my heart feels lifted by her caring hands.

The rest of the story goes quickly, finding the dark room, Rachel, Chloe’s death and my capture. That part I gloss over, only alluding to my time with Jefferson and my convoluted escape.

“At the end, we found ourselves on the cliff next to the lighthouse. A massive tornado was sweeping across the bay towards town. Chloe told me…she told me she had been selfish. That the week we’d had together was the best week she’d ever had. Her mom and the other people in town didn’t deserve to die while she lived. It was…it was the same decision all over again, my curse to fuck things up with my ‘gift’. So I did the only thing I thought I could do: I returned to the time in the bathroom and didn’t interfere with Chloe’s death. Which leads us to here…”

We sit in silence, my face streaked with dried tears. Her fingers are still trailing through my hair and across my back. Her other hand holds mine, fingers entwined. The sensations of her touch…confuses me. After a while Kate says, “Thank you for sharing that with me, Max. It explains a lot about your grief these last few months.” Her voice falls silent again.

“Her death, I mean in the bathroom, that’s what you see in your nightmares, isn’t it?”

All I can do is nod. She already knew that, though.

“Max? Do you blame yourself for her death?”

Again I nod, a little confused. Surely she knows from what little I told her before tonight that I did.

“Tell me about why you blame yourself for that? It sounds like it was a decision both of you made.”

But I’m the only one here now! I want to scream. My hands are starting to tremble as dark thoughts thicken in my mind.

“It’s Ok,” she whispers, stroking my hand. “Let yourself feel. Don’t hold it in.”

With stuttering words I tell her about not being there for Chloe for five years. Not being there when Chloe needed nothing more than someone to support her. I failed her five years ago. I failed her six months ago. I failed her.

She silently listens with judgement. Occasionally she prompts me with a word or two to tell more.

“You really…cared for her, didn’t you? I mean, you had…stronger feelings for Chloe-I mean more than just a friend, didn’t you?”

My face whirls to look at her. She is so perceptive! I had avoided mention of our kissing, and anything that might run afoul of her upbringing. She’s not looking at me though, her eyes focused on our joined hands.

“Yeah. We knew each other when we were little. I moved to Seattle when I was 13, just after William died. In the days before the move I realized…that Chloe meant more to me than a friend. I didn’t really know what I felt or how to tell her.”

“When I came back I avoided her because I was scared. I thought she would…hate me. But we reconnected and those feelings came back. Then, again, it was too late. I abandoned her…twice.”

Her eyes lift to look into mine. “I don’t think you did.” She speaks with such tenderness, “I think you were a confused 13 year old that was trying to make sense of her life after moving away and losing two dear friends. And then you had to choose between saving one you…loved or saving a whole town.”

I consider her words before asking, “How…did you know she was more than a friend to me?”

Her words are a long time in coming. I wonder that she’s still sitting here after all this. What battle is happening in her mind right now between her beliefs and me?

“You so willingly put her concerns before your own. You didn’t hesitate to bring her peace even at great harm to yourself. And you did that more than once.”

The way she describes me and Chloe, I’m suddenly seeing us in a different light. Only Chloe is not here to share it. The ache rises in my chest.

“Is that what has consumed you this week?”

“No.” I pause, thinking more. “I had some unusual events this week that makes me think Chloe wasn’t supposed to die.”

“Oh!”

“Yeah.”

“W-what were they?”

“Those two times this week you found me collapsed on my floor with my nose bleeding? That’s what happens when I have a vision.”

“That’s…like a weakness or consequence?”

“I guess so? In the vision I saw a giant wave headed toward Arcadia Bay. Six months ago I had a similar vision about a tornado. Back then I thought I caused the storm because I used my rewind to save Chloe. Now…I don’t know. My use today is the first time in four or five months that I’ve used it.”

Kate hasn’t moved away from me, her arm now around my waist and hand on mine. I wonder briefly at her behavior. I honestly expected her to run away long before this.

_Look at you, corrupting the innocent!_

“It’s not just those visions, Kate.” I tell her my conversations with the homeless lady and Samuel. “If it was just those conversations, I could ignore all this. I’ve had those same thoughts, those same debates so many times in my mind the last six months. But those visions…?”

After a long pause she asks, “What are you going to do?”

Shaking my head, I say, “I don’t know yet. It seems like my saving Chloe wasn’t the cause of the storm. That means…it means she didn’t have to die. I…I could go back and save her.”

She is silent at my words for a few moments. Her chin rests then on my shoulder and I begin to worry. “What will that mean for…me, and you, and everyone right now?”

Her question stops me cold. I know what will happen, but can I say it? Damn it, I’m faced with another one of those cursed choices! Closing my eyes I answer, my voice trembling and distant, “It means that n-none of this happens. Everything from the moment of Chloe’s d-death until now will…never happen.”

“But you’ll remember, won’t you?”

“Yeah, I’ll remember. Just like I remember that other timeline where I paralyzed Chloe.”

More silence. “Will Joyce be happier?”

“I certainly hope so. Chloe will be alive.”

“Will you be happier, Max?”

Dog gone it, Kate! She’s really asking something I don’t want to give voice to. A profound sadness consumes me as I nod. “Yes, I think I’ll be happier.”

“Then you should do it.” She hugs me tight against her as she says this. It is too much. So like Kate to be kind and selfless, not like my guilt and selfish need for Chloe. Before I can break down further, I snake my arm around her and hold her tight as well. As we hold each other, I summon all my strength and courage to give voice to my suspicions.

“K-Kate?”

“Yes?”

“Do you…” I don’t want to do this! I don’t know how to do this! How can I do this! Five years ago I had to use a tape recorder to do something similar with Chloe. I thought I was better, more mature. What a sham that belief is!

Do you like me? Ugh. That’s not what I want to ask. It’s obvious she likes me. It’s that word, that feeling I had…have for Chloe.

“What is it?”

Breathing deeply, I try again. “Do you…have…do you…love me?”

Her body stiffens at the question, giving me all the answer I need. Fuck!

“Let’s…let’s not think, about that right now, Max. How can I help you save Chloe?”

“No,” I whisper, “no, no, no, no!”

Holding me at arms length, Kate looks at me. Her eyes are damp. Giving me a brave smile she says, “You heard the woman, Chloe is supposed to be alive! We have to save her.”

“Kate,” I say, whine rather, but she shushes me.

_Abandon hope all ye who get involved with Max the Destroyer!_

“I’ll be fine, Max. We need to bring you and Chloe back together. If that woman is right, then this was never supposed to be.”

Now she reaches out and stokes my cheek. So gentle. “I would rather you be happy with her than in the endless misery of now.”

How can I say no to that?

_Take her heart with you when you go, Max._

“Now, Max. If I understand your story right, you’ll need to use that photo to return to just before Nathan shoots Chloe. I suggest you write a note in your journal. Give yourself a note from the future to not let her die, no matter what!”

What the fuck! Kate is too, too good. What will happen to you in this timeline? Does it, and you, cease to exist? Do you find someone to love you when I am gone? Someone you can love?

“Max, you were my friend before all this happens. I’d like to think you’ll be my friend no matter what happens.”

Eyes closed, my head nods. I can’t trust myself to not break down and cry if I look at her. I feel something brush my cheek, soft, damp. Kate kissed me!

Before I can process that, something firm with sharp corners is placed into my hands. I open my eyes to see the photo of the butterfly.

“I’ll always be your friend, Max.” Those are the last words I hear from her as I’m pulled into the photo.


	2. Return

The bathroom at Blackwell slowly filters into my consciousness as the photo finishes ejecting from my camera. Plucking it from the camera I place it into my bag. My cheek still feels the warmth of Kate’s kiss, but I push that aside to focus on what needs done now. I have to save Chloe! With sure moves I trigger the alarm.

The alarm blares through the school. Pounding feet tell me people are leaving. I take a moment to stare at my hands.I’m about to cause the death of untold hundreds. Kate’s words echo in my mind, “I would rather you be happy with her than in the endless misery of now.” I still feel selfish and weak, but I can’t take life without Chloe any longer.

My notebook is in my hands. I shuffle pages to the last entry. This Max needs to see the message right away. I preface the entry with April 11, 2014. Time in these photo jumps is unpredictable. As quick as I can, I write details of the next few days below the date. My note ends with: Take care of Kate. Don’t sacrifice Chloe!

The edges of reality start clouding my consciousness as I write the last word, then my vision is shrouded.

* * *

In one moment I’m in the bathroom at Blackwell.

In the next moment I’m standing in a store aisle. A plastic bottle is in my hand. I blink and look around. This looks like a Walgreens or CVS. Where am I?

A voice behind me reaches my ears. “Hey, Maxie, you find what you need?” My heart stops and I drop the bottle. Quickened breath and palpitating heart push me to turn, but nothing works! A hand pushes my shoulder and Chloe is in front of me, holding a basket filled with various items.

The sight of her causes me to involuntarily step backward and my hand covers my mouth.

Chloe whirls to look behind her. “What’d you see?”

I take a slow step forward with hand outstretched, I have to know. Is she real? Is it just my mind playing tricks like it always does?

She’s facing me again, her brows furrowing slightly as she sees me stepping closer. My fingers graze her cheek and I feel the warmth of her skin. It’s too much for me and I fall to my knees, tears streaming from my eyes. It’s her! She’s alive!

“Max? You ok? What’s- oh shit!” Her words turn to concern. She must know something, but all I can think right now is Chloe’s alive! She’s alive!

I hear a clatter and then arms are around me, pulling me into an embrace. “It happened, didn’t it,” Chloe whispers. Her warmth, her realness touches something deep inside of me. My hands grasp her shirt, pulling her close. I reach up and touch her face again, still not able to believe it.

“Well, Super Max, you picked a hella good place for this to happen.” Tenderness weaves through her words as she continues to hold me.

“You’re real. You’re alive.” My first words and they shake and fall poorly from my mouth. I don’t care.

“Yeah. I’m real.”

I hear her heart beat, soothing. I want to capture it, make it a part of me. She holds me for a long time, but it feels too short.

“Let’s get our stuff and get out of here.” She helps me stand, grabs the bottle and basket and leads me by the hand to the front. I’m sure I’m a mess, with tears still leaking from my eyes. I don’t care. All I can do is look at her, watching her walk with her swagger, watching her be alive. Watching her be…her.

Before I know it, we are outside and she ushers me to a small black car. I manage to stammer out, “w-what happened to your truck?”

“Ah, we ditched that some time ago. I’ll tell you about it later.” She opens the door for me but I can’t bear to let go of her. I don’t want her to disappear again. If I let go…will she still be here?

Seeing something in my face, she steps close and brings my hand to her neck. I feel her pulse, a steady beat, under my fingertips. “I’m real, Max,” she whispers, “I’m not going away. You need to get in the car.”

After several minutes when she realizes I won’t let go, she huffs and says, “Ok, we’ll do this ninja mode.”

Stepping to the open passenger door, she tosses the bags into the backseat. Next she crawls into the car, clambering over the center console. I follow, my hand still clinging to hers.

When we are both seated, she sighs again. “Maxie, you know I love you but-no, actually you probably don’t-didn’t know that. Shit this is hard! I need to get my keys, and I need my hand to do that and to start the car.”

Reluctantly, I let go of her hand. Flashing me a smile, she fishes the keys from her pocket and starts the car. “Seat belt!”

We’re driving then and my hand is on hers, resting on the gear shift. All I can do is stare at her. A little blush forms in her cheeks. “You’re so adorkable.”

My mind finally engages enough for me to relax. I lean back in my seat, still staring at her. I keep my hand touching hers.

“I’m not complaining. You can look at me all you want!”

Closing my eyes I take a deep breath and let it out. Chloe is alive. I am with her. I am alive.

Soon, we’re pulling into a motel. I follow her from the car into a room, still attached to her hand.

The room is small and dirty looking. Two backpacks sit on chairs against the far wall, open with some clothes spilling from them. A staleness of old cigarettes and other odors assault my nose. I don’t care. Chloe is alive and I’m with her. That’s all that matters.

She tosses the bags on the far bed, jumps onto the closer one and sits cross legged. She pats the bed next to her and says, “We have a lot to talk about.”

Nodding, I sit next to her, almost on top of her we’re so close. My hand keeps straying to her, a brush along her arm, a touch of her leg. Each contact reaffirms her reality. It tells me I am with her. It tells me I made a good decision.

“Well,” she says, “even though we prepared for this…I don’t really know how to begin.”

We? She and my…other self in this timeline?

Chloe looks at the far wall and for the first time I notice her. I mean I really notice her. Hands clasped on her lap. Shoulders slumped. A faraway look in her eyes, small tears in the corners. She’s…sad? She manages a small smile as she looks at me.

Her mouth works, opening and closing a few times. Her eyes dart away and back. There’s something she wants to say, but it’s not coming out. My hand reaches toward hers, to touch her and let her know this is ok.

“Fuck, I can’t do this,” she says. My mouth drops open as she jumps off the bed. Can’t…do what?

Crossing to the backpacks, she digs into them until she finds an envelope. Dropping it into my lap, she says, “You wrote yourself a note. Probably explain it better than I can. I need to medicate.” With that, she leaves me alone in the room.

What just happened? Is Chloe mad at me? Does she not…want me?

_Who wants a loser like you!_

Fighting back the thoughts I look at the envelope in my lap. A plain, simple white envelope with my name written on the front. Inside are several sheets of paper.

“Hi Max. Wow this is so weird, writing myself a letter. Probably just as weird as you writing a note for me in my journal. This is Sad Max. At least that’s what Chloe and I call me when we talk about you.”

“You’re probably wondering why we call me Sad Max, although you can likely guess. Knowing that I only have a few months with her, knowing that everything we worked for will be gone, makes me sad. It makes Chloe sad…”

Stains mark the paper and I realize they’re tear drops. My head raises as I fight against the thoughts swirling within me. Sad Max. Shaking a little, I return to the letter.

“If you are reading this that means I’ve gone away. I don’t know what that means, I mean I don’t know what will happen to me. Honestly, I’m scared Max. I’m scared of losing Chloe. I’m scared of you. I’m scared for Chloe.”

I stop again, putting the paper down as my breathing has become shallow and rapid. Max was afraid of me? My memory of just hours ago writing in her journal comes to mind. A date. A warning. An end to her life. I make a kind of gasp as I realize I put a countdown timer on her life!

Closing my eyes I focus and try to apply some of the techniques I learned to deal with the rising panic inside. My breathing gradually returns to normal, although my heart rate is still up. Opening my eyes, I study my hands, the paper, anything that puts a different image in my mind, an image that shunts the panic.

“We decided I needed to write this because you need to know, and we weren’t sure whether Chloe will be in the greatest state of mind to tell you.”

“You need to know that Chloe loves us, loves you. Losing me will be harder on her than she’ll let on. Don’t let her shut you out, Max! We worked hard the last few months to get her to open up, to heal. She is so amazing, Max! Don’t let go of her. Help her.”

“After a lot of effort and care, Chloe agreed to get help. For a few months she received professional help and made so much progress! I’m so proud of her! She has medicine, antidepressants, and some tools to help. Be patient with her, please. She will try to push you away. Don’t let her. Be her anchor!”

It’s too much and I rise from the bed, pacing as my mind struggles to take it all in. The letter sits on the corner of the bed, taunting me with memories of this existence.

The fact Chloe received help is wonderful! There’s no way I can deny how happy and satisfying that is. Everything this ‘Sad Max’ is telling though is pushing those good feelings aside.

My breath wants to escape me and my heart wants to tear itself from my chest. Slowing my pacing, I lean against a wall. The heels of my hands are pressing against my head as if I could shove the thoughts away with physical force. Closing my eyes I focus on one of the exercises Kate and I worked into my plan. The consequences of coming here I keep distant from my mind. When everything has calmed, I return to the bed.

“I think what I’m trying to say is don’t take it personally if she has a hard time adjusting. I don’t know how things were for you. You didn’t tell us much about that.”

“We’ve had to use the rewind often, just to keep ahead…of events.”

“The storm you warned us about never happened. Jefferson and Nathan were arrested late Tuesday. My visions stopped after that. Right now Chloe and I suspect the storm is tied to one of them, we just don’t know how or who or why.”

“Chloe and I are, well, we’re a couple now, Max. She’s so special. She loves you very much. I don’t know what this will mean for you. We’re guessing from your note that Chloe died in your timeline. Please give her time to adjust. Be there for her.”

My face spreads into a smile as I re-read that first sentence. We’re a couple now.

“We had to leave Arcadia Bay around Christmas. There were people looking for us, looking for me. I had to do some really unpleasant things, Max. The people are connected to Nathan. Don’t let them catch you or Chloe! Do not let that happen!”

My eyes go to the backpacks with clothes and other things spilling from them. They’ve been on the road for four months! What happened? What did I set in motion?

“Also, don’t keep secrets from Chloe, Max. Don’t rewind to say the right thing with her. Be real for her. Be your honest self, awkward and all. It’s one thing that has kept us together, and strong these last few months. Being real for each other, to each other made our friendship strong when we were younger. It’s made our relationship as girlfriends stronger.”

“We’ve had to learn more about our rewind power these last few months. Chloe really likes our ‘experiments’. She really comes alive like when we were kids! Ask her about them. It will help her connect with you. She loves it so much.”

“I know I keep saying that Chloe loves us, and loves you. The truth is…I’m scared you won’t love her the same way. And I’m scared that Chloe will see loving you as…”

The rest of the page is blank. Turning to the last one, I see it is heavily stained with tears.

“There’s one last thing you need to know. You need to hear this from me, not Chloe. I’m so sorry Max. I wasn’t able to protect Kate. She killed herself. I’m so sorry that I couldn’t save her.”

My breath catches in my chest at the words and my vision blurs. Kate’s…dead? No. No! The pages fall from my nerveless hands. All I can see is kind, sweet Kate just minutes ago comforting me. I want to cry, but everything is muted and numb.

_You trampled her love under your feet and left her to die!_

I flinch at the thought, trying to push it away and deny it! But it’s oh so true.

The bed shakes and an arm drapes itself across my shoulders. A strong, sweet odor wraps around me as Chloe pulls me against her.

“You ok?”

Words fail me, vanishing into the void, so I shake my head. I’ve gained Chloe, only to lose Kate. My curse is never ending. My hands tighten into fists. So much loss. So much pain. And for what? What’s the fucking point if all I ever do is end lives!

_Max the Destroyer of lives. Pathetic. You thought you could make a difference?_

I-I don’t deserve to be with her! I don’t deserve-

_“_ Hey, Max? Now’s not the time to tear yourself down.”

Her words jumble my thoughts and I look up. “What? H-how do you know that’s what I’m doing?”

Her cocky smile appears on her face. “You may be a hella time lord from another reality, but I know how you work!” Her face then softens and leaning forward she kisses my forehead. The touch of her lips spreads warmth through me. “You’re blushing.” She teases me gently.

Leaning her head against mine, she looks into my eyes and says, “I’m sorry about just now, leaving you like that. It wasn’t fair to you at all.” Her eyes search mine and silence comes between us. My words are trapped within the hungry void inside.

She moves her head away, studying me. “Tell me about Kate. I never…got the opportunity to meet her.”

My hands fidget in my lap, until she reaches over and takes them in one of her own. Her touch soothes me. She’s real. I don’t know how long I’ll need that reassurance.

Focusing my sight our our clasped hands, I say, “Kate was special. She was patient, kind, and very forgiving. After you…” I can’t say that word! ”She was my only friend that stuck around. My grief and guilt really fucked me up. I drove everyone else away. But not her.”

“At one point you told me that Rachel was your Angel.” Chloe shifts uncomfortably next to me and I realize I just brought up painful memories for her. I look up into her face, my fears and sadness forgotten as I think about her and everything she went through. “I’m sorry,” I tell her, “I didn’t mean-”

Shaking her head, she shushes me. “No, Max. It’s ok. Tell me about her.”

I search her face, wondering what this means, wondering at her amazing transformation. She’s the same, but different from six months ago.

“I…didn’t realize what you meant by that until Kate. She put up with my moods, my anger, my depression and helped me in so many ways. Kate never gave up on me. When she looked at me, she didn’t see problems, she saw someone that needed a friend. She was my angel.”

Looking down, I study our hands, clasped together. “She’s actually the reason I’m here right now. Without Kate…” I realize I cannot go down that path, not right now. I sniff, trying to control my tears.

“She watched over me, helped me with my school work. If not for her I would have been kicked out of Blackwell. There’s so many things she did for me, that I took for granted.” My cheek is burning where she kissed me, like an angry reminder that I threw her life away.

“Just a few hours ago, in my timeline, I told her about my abilities and how I’d begun to suspect you weren’t supposed to die. I…I was scared when I told her. She is…was such a devout, religious person I thought it would finally push her away.”

“It did freak her out, especially when I showed her. She almost left…but she stayed. And I told her everything. She’s the one that encouraged me to go back and leave the note. That was her idea, not mine.”

“While I was telling her about that week in October, I finally realized something. I’m such a blind, selfish person. I realized Kate was…in love with me.”

“Damn.” Chloe’s voice is quiet. No words I can say would do this moment justice so I stay silent, still focused on our hands.

I tell Chloe about that last conversation between the two of us, not so long ago. From the moment I told her about the visions, to the moment she placed the photo in my hands.

“And now…and now she’s gone…”

Silence greets my words. Chloe pulls me tight against her, both arms around me now. Her face is buried in my hair and she’s whispering things I can’t hear.

Kate’s words echo again in my mind, bringing fresh tears. “I would rather you be happy with her than in the endless misery of now.” Oh Kate!


	3. Reunion

Today has totally exhausted me mentally and emotionally. Sleep beckons me; I want to fall into its embrace. Pushing it away, I disentangle myself from Chloe’s hug and turn so I’m facing her.

Giving her a weak smile, I say, “Can you tell me what’s going on? Why is Nathan after us? My message didn’t explain that.”

A wry smile creases her face. “Well, that’s because we don’t know.”

“What do you mean we don’t know?”

A long pause ensues while it appears she gathers her thoughts. “It started on Christmas break. Since most students were gone I was staying with you that week. We had hella plans! Only they were ruined Monday morning when a couple of guys showed up. I was outside and they grabbed me. I gave one of them a nice battle scar on his face, but they were too strong for me. Out of nowhere you showed up. The next moment, they were on the ground bleeding. We left and went to my house.”

“Two days later, we’re out grocery shopping for Joyce when they showed up again, with friends. That time they told us Nathan wanted to speak with us. Before I could say anything all of them were on the ground bleeding, just like before. You grabbed my hand and we fled. We left town that day and have been on the move ever since.”

“They caught up with us a couple of times, which is why we had to ditch my truck. You…I mean my Max kept us safe each time.”

An uncomfortable silence descends. Her Max. How I want to be Her Max right now. I reach my hand out again to take hers, but she pulls away. Her face is turned from mine as she stands and crosses to the other side of the room. Her shoulders are bunched and her head bowed.

Her fist suddenly slams into the wall, and I almost fall off the bed in surprise. Again and again she slams it! I stand, uncertain what to do, my hands clenching and unclenching.

She leans forward, her head braced against the wall. Slowly, I walk toward her and touch her shoulder. She spins around, her brows furrowed and I step back. The tension drains from her on sight of me.

After a deep breath she whispers, “I’m sorry, Max. It’s hard. It’s so fucking hard to see you and hear you and know that you’re YOU, but you’re not. The girl I grew to love is gone and I don’t know if…” Her words trail into silence. Her head is twisted to the side, eyes searching for what isn’t there.

Ducking my head I say, “She told me in the letter that it would be hard for you. I…I’ve missed you so much the past six months. It wasn’t fair for me to think I could just…barge in, take over and be your Max.”

The silence stretches out between us into seconds and minutes. Her hands reach out and take mine. “Can you tell me a couple things?” Her question is timid, not like her.

“I’ll try my best, Chloe.”

“In your…time line, I died, didn’t I?”

Her question cause my hands to clench on hers. I don’t want to answer but I make myself. “Yes. You…died last October.”

She looks at me a long time after that, surprise written all over her.

“Why…why did you wait six months?”

I shrink back at the question. My heart goes still and my hands pull away from hers. She reaches out again for me, but lets her arm fall before touching me. Before I can muster the words to say, she walks past me.

Closing my eyes I try not to think about what’s happening, about the reception I’m getting, about the growing ache inside. I’m not her Max. I’m…a different person. The girl I crushed on last October loves a different me.

Taking a few deep breaths I focus again on her question. Pushing down the ache, I breathe until I’m calm. “The storm…your Max had visions about…never happened, right?”

“Yeah.” Her voice is tight, empty.

“In…my original timeline a tornado threatened Arcadia Bay. We, you and I, were convinced it happened because I used my time travel abilities. In the most courageous, selfless act I have ever witnessed, you said it was better for everyone in Arcadia Bay to live than you. That they didn’t deserve to be destroyed by the storm. You wanted your mom, and even David, to live. So I went back to just before Nathan shot you…and didn’t interrupt it.”

The words are like I’m reciting someone else’s life. My mouth moves and words come out, but it’s not me. It’s someone else. I see us on the cliff, watching the storm approach town. I hear again Chloe’s words, “Max Caulfield? Don’t you forget about me.”

“Never,” I whisper.

“What was that?”

Startled, I lift my head and turn to look at her. “The last words you spoke to me, before I went back in time to the bathroom were: Don’t you forget about me.”

“I never forgot about you, Chloe Price. Every day and every night for six months, I never forgot.”

Something fills me then, maybe confidence? Squaring my shoulders I walk and kneel in front of her sitting on the bed. “One thing I learned in all the timelines I visited, in all the adventures you and I had, is I will do anything for you, Chloe. Anything! I waited six months because I was staying true to what we thought was supposed to happen. I waited six months because I was keeping your sacrifice alive and meaningful, though no one else knew.”

I can’t read her face. The emotions crossing it are too swift for me to identify. Her eyes study me, flicking across my features. She’s thinking about what I just said, or I think she is. Her hands open and close, almost reaching for me.

After a long time, she reaches out and pulls me up to her. Our lips brush each other. A warmth shoots through me, a thrill I’ve only felt once before. Her lips press against mine, lingering as she tastes me. Her hand goes to my neck, holding me tight against her. A memory of the kiss before we parted during the storm rises into my mind and fades before the reality she is placing on me. This is on an entirely different plane, one I am not familiar with.

When we pull apart, I’m breathless. “Wow,” we both say. It feels like I’m on fire. Her face is relaxed and a little flush. A gleam shines from her slitted eyes. The look of her face captures my heart.

I lean toward her again but her eyes widen, and she scurries away from me. “Oh, Max! I-I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have…I-I-” Her words die as she turns her head aside, but not before I see a tear trickle down her face. “I shouldn’t have done that.” Her voice is choked and muffled by the hands she holds over her face.

I slump onto the bed, hiding my face in the blanket so she won’t see it screw into sadness. She’s right. I’ve messed things up again. I shouldn’t be here. Her Max should. I feel like letting the blanket smother me.

_Bringing pain to the innocent!_

“I’m sorry.” The words choke out of me, tumbling to the bed.

“Don’t apologize.” Her own words are a choking mess. “You didn’t do anything wrong. If I waited six months to see you…I just can’t right now. I shouldn’t have led you on. I’m so sorry. I’m just…I’m not ready to move from her…to you.”

My heart twists within me at her words. I’ve moved forward into a new reality, but I haven’t moved forward at all.

“Fuck,” she shouts and slams her hand on the bed.

Alarmed, I touch her arm drawing her attention to me. “I won’t push you Chloe. I’ll…I’ll just be me.” What does that even mean?

_A monster._

She nods and wipes her face. She gives me a brief smile. Rising, we set about preparing for bed.

Although exhaustion still drags at me, there’s also a strange energy infusing my mind. Today is so confusing and my heart feels wrung out. Chloe and I are together again, but we’re not. Kate is…gone. We’re on the run. Nathan is after us for unknown reasons.

When I exit the bathroom I find Chloe already in bed. Standing between the beds, I’m frozen, glancing at each. I don’t want to force her into another situation where she feels like she’s betraying her Max.

She sighs and says, “Max, just get in bed with me. We’ve been sleeping in the same bed since we were kids. No reason to stop now.”

Hesitantly, I climb into bed beside her, my heart beating a little faster. My movements are slow, deliberate. My body is stiff as I lay down, arms straight at my sides. Her closeness both soothes and confuses. I want to touch her, to feel her heart beating like earlier. I don’t want to do the wrong thing. Is touching her the wrong thing?

She scoots close to me, props herself on an elbow and looks at me. “Heya Max, I got another question for you.”

I give a small smile and say, “What is it?”

“When did you first become gay for me?”

Ugh, my face heats up at the unexpected question. She snickers and says, “You’re so adorkable!”

A snort escapes me and I say, “Why do you have to ask it like that?”

She just grins. “Because I like to see you blush!”

It feels like my face is on fire and I stammer out “When…when I was thirteen.”

She doesn’t say anything to that, just looks at me with an unreadable expression. At last she leans down and kisses me lightly, then snuggles next to me.

My final thought as I drift into sleep is that I didn’t actually tell her why I came back.

* * *

Opening my eyes, I find myself in my dorm room alone, sitting on the couch. There is no sign of Chloe. My room looks just like it did in early October, before everything. A faint sound outside my door attracts my attention. Straining my ears I just make it out. Someone, somewhere, is crying.

Rising I cross to the door and open it. Across the hall, at Kate’s room, is one of those spontaneous shrines people build when someone dies. A message board leans against the wall with lit candles, pictures, and other objects arrayed around it. Someone kneels before the shrine.

The kneeling person is the one crying. I approach, wondering what I am seeing, wondering who this is. My approach catches the person’s attention. She rises and faces me. It’s Kate! I freeze mid-step as I take in her appearance.

She looks at me, eyes glassy and unfocused. Her clothes are torn and rotted. Her hair, once so beautiful in its cinnamon blonde, is in dark clumps and ragged strands. Dirt cakes her skin and clothes, like she just climbed out of a hole.

Gasping, I step backward. “How could you,” Kate hisses, “how could you let me die!” She steps toward me arms tensed.

“Kate! No! I didn’t! I would never let you die!”

Another voice joins in. Another figure steps from the shadows. Someone I see in every mirror.

“You killed her when you decided Chloe was more important than anyone else,” Max says and her voice is one I recognize, my self-loathing come to life.

I back away in fear. My heart pounds wildly and my breaths are fleeting. “No. I saved her! I saved Kate!”

“You practically pushed me off the roof, Max! You said you were my friend but you don’t know anything about me! You didn’t even take my call!” Each sentence makes me flinch and flares an ache inside me.

Kate draws closer to me. I can smell the death and grave on her. My stomach churns; I turn and flee. Behind me the other Max laughs and it chills my blood. “You can’t run away from this!”

Flinging open my door I slam it shut and lean against it. My breath comes in ragged gasps and it feels like my heart is trying to escape my chest. Through the door I can hear that other Max berating me, and Kate asking why.

It takes a few moments for me to notice someone is with me in my room. My hands come up to my chest and I push myself against the door. The other person, a girl, sits on my couch with her head bowed. Brown hair hides her face from me.

“For six months I hated you,” the person says, and I realize it’s yet another Max. Her words are quiet, yet silences the voices from the other side of the door. She lifts her head and her face is streaked with tears. Something is different about her voice; she’s not like the Max outside my room.

She stands, face twisted and body taut. When she speaks again, it’s like she’s spitting out the words. “I dreaded this day for months! Knowing that everything I worked for with Chloe would be lost to someone else…I tried hiding it from Chloe, but she knew. She knows me…us too well. And when it happened…when it happened…”

The realization hits me like a bucket of cold water. I’m talking to the Max I replaced!

She steps toward me, fists balled and arms raised, like she’s going to hit me. I hold my hands out to keep her away, not certain what to make of this.

“And then your memories came flooding in…” Her hands fall to her sides, no longer tensed. Her body sags, on the verge of collapse. “I don’t know what I feel anymore. Your…note left so many things out. And the way you’re able to…” She trails off, her head turning aside.

“M-Max. I-” I don’t really know what to say. This conversation is so different than what I just heard outside my door. It’s so different than the self-loathing that I normally hear from myself.

“No!” Her voice is firm, edged with something. She’s looking at me again, her eyes shining with an inner light. “Don’t talk. Listen! We both fucked up things in our own ways, in our own timelines. Kate stepping from that roof haunts me even now! Chloe is the one who helped me not hate myself for that.”

I want so much to ask her about Kate, but she keeps talking.

“And…I don’t hate you anymore…I don’t think I can. But I don’t like you either! You broke us apart…I understand why…but I don’t…Max I can’t forgive you for that…”

“I don’t want you fucking up my…your…our relationship with Chloe!” The light in her eyes flares to a greater brightness as she speaks. “Don’t you dare do that! You need to stop feeling sorry for yourself, stop…tearing yourself down and actually speak to her! If you don’t…you’ll never heal yourself. You’ll never really be with her.”

She steps very close to me, her mouth next to my ear. “You have to tell her what she means to you. You have to tell her…about your guilt, about your self-hate. You have to tell her your darkest secret. You have to tell her you tried to kill yourself, and why.”


	4. Crowd

Cool air hits me as I jerk upright. Darkness surrounds me and my heart is pounding. Where am I?

I’m in a bed. I slip out of it and peer around. Light peeks through a curtain, letting me see a little.

Realization seeps into my brain as I see the bags on the chairs and the staleness assaults my nostrils. I’m in a motel room. Chloe’s still in bed asleep. Going to the bedside table I check my phone. It’s early morning, still plenty of time to sleep. But that escape is far away from my mind.

The dreams with Kate, Other Max, Overwritten Max, are quite vivid. Her words are still fresh in my ears, “You have to tell her…you tried to kill yourself.” I shake my head as if to deny that thought purchase.

Sitting on the corner of the bed, I lean over, head in my hands. Why do I have to tell her? That’s not something I even spoke to Kate about. Kate. My fingers clench in my hair at her name, pulling until tears are in my eyes. I killed Kate.

And now I’m supposed to talk to Chloe about trying to kill myself? I’m supposed to tell her that I wasn’t strong enough? That I fell short of the ideal we painted on the cliffside park during the storm? We thought the world would be a better place with Chloe Price, and that Max Caulfield would be ok.

_Max Caulfield is never ok._

Pain erupts in my shoulder again and again. I’m no good!

Unbidden, memories spring forth of my attempt to kill myself.

Slumped on my couch, a picture of Pirate Max and Pirate Chloe on my lap. Open pill bottles are scattered around me. Looking at the picture, thinking, “I’ll be with you soon, Chloe. The world can survive without Max Fuck-up Caulfield.” Tears in my eyes, making it hard to see.

My vision is blocked, by some-someone? A girl? Kate? She’s shaking me. Why are you shaking me, Kate?

Words, voices. Someone is loud but I can’t hear them. Now lots of people all in my room. Kate again. “Don’t leave, Max!”

  


Here I am in some random hotel room with the girl I’ve been obsessed with the last six months; the girl I ghosted for five years. And all I can think about is how I failed her. How I continue to fail her. How I’m failing Arcadia Bay right now by being so focused on myself instead of the danger I foresaw.

Over and over the pain flares in my shoulder. It’s not enough!

“Max!”

Her call terrorizes me. She saw! She had to! Now she knows what a fuck-up I am and she’ll send me away!

_Only what you deserve!_

The bed shifts as she comes to my side.

“You ok?”

“I…thought you were asleep.”

“I don’t sleep much. I’ve been watching you and I’m…concerned. Are you ok?” Her arm is around my shoulder.

“It’s-” I want to say “it’s nothing,” but another thought, another voice, whispers in my head.

**_Tell her._ **

The voice startles me. It’s not the voice that tears me down. Instead I recognize it as the Max I replaced.

_Yeah, tell her how you couldn’t live up to her standard._

My self-hate spoke by that other Max easily flares, a dark comfort.

**_Tell her why you waited six months. Tell her why you’re here now._ **

_Tell her how much of a fuck-up you are._

**_Don’t listen to her, Max! Be honest with Chloe. She’ll understand._ **

My jaw hurts from clamping it so hard. The voices fighting in my head, pushing me in different directions are overwhelming. Tears come into my eyes again, pulled from pain I feel in my head. Without realizing it I’m pulling my hair again, letting her see!

No! My hands relax as shame sweeps through me. My eyes and head turn away from her and I want to crawl into a hole.

I want to lie, to tell Chloe everything’s ok. That voice though, it speaks to something deep inside, breaking the hold I have on myself.

“-no, I’m not ok.”

Her arms are around me then. Something shoots through me as she tucks me against her side, tingling and painful. It’s like grabbing a live wire and I nearly jerk out of her arms. She pulls me close, leaning her head against mine. It reminds me of returning from that alternate timeline where she was paralyzed and wanting to hold her the same way.

“I…need help.” My voice is hoarse, a whisper.

“I-we kind of guessed that, Max.” Her voice is calm, warm. She kisses my head.

“And…I’m scared to tell you. Today…was nothing like I imagined it would be. Seeing you again, alive…” my hands have crept up to hold her arms, “…it’s the happiest I’ve been in six months.”

**_Tell her!_ **

Now I’m gripping her arms hard. My knuckles are white from the strain. I must be hurting her fiercely, but she doesn’t say anything.

To tell her…to open myself to her. It’s both what I want most, and what I fear the most. If I don’t hold her arms, I know what will happen. It’s lurking, waiting to come out.

“Because six months ago you died in that bathroom when Nathan shot you. I let you die because we thought my time control power had caused a massive storm that threatened Arcadia Bay. I let you die because you selflessly stated that it was better for you to die than for everyone else in Arcadia Bay to suffer. So…I went back in time and let Nathan kill you.”

“Fuck that!”

_Murderer!_

**_Don’t listen to her, Max! Tell her!_ **

The voices in my head are too much. Loosing her arms my hands press against my forehead, as if I could push the voices away.

No. No. No. I repeat that over and over.

**_Yes. You need to tell her._ **

But I won’t. I can’t! Not now, not on the first day! Today was supposed to be happy, wasn’t it? We’re together again.

Chloe’s Max sitting on the bed, telling me she hates me fills my minds eye. Trembling lays hold of me as an overwhelming sense of pressure and explosion fills me.

Harder my hands press into my head. A sound murmurs around me. Only when hands fasten onto my wrists do I realize I’m pulling my hair again, the pain pricking tears. She gently pulls my hands down, holding them in her lap.

“It…didn’t go the way you thought, did it?”

All I can do is shake my head in agreement. There’s a tension and sense of dissatisfaction inside that pairs well with my ever present guilt.

“I..waited until I couldn’t anymore. Only to come here and make things worse for you. Seeing you again…that’s all I wanted. To see you, to tell you…but instead I took your love away from you!”

“Tell me what?”

Her hands still hold mine in my lap, a safeguard against something else. Again I shake my head, unwilling to answer. “That…that doesn’t matter now.” Push it aside! Push it away! She doesn’t need this now!

_She doesn’t need you now!_

**_You need to tell her!_ **

_Tell her how much you hate yourself. Tell her how you find joy in hurting yourself!_

“I’m sorry.” Her voice cuts through the argument in my mind, snapping my eyes to her.

“What do you have to be sorry for?”

“I made you choose something no one should ever have to!”

“It wasn’t even you, Chloe! It’s a you that-”

“Will you stop fighting me on this, Caulfield!” Her words are firm, but tender. “It doesn’t matter if it was an alternate me that no longer exists. It was still me! I put a choice on you that was completely unfair. I don’t sound selfless, I sound like an asshole-”

“Don’t you dare shit on yourself, Chloe Price.” Her head jerks back as steel enters my voice. “That moment on the hill was the most beautiful thing I’ve ever witnessed! I saw my friend, Chloe Price. I saw the girl I admired and crushed on. That memory motivated me to get out of bed each day, to try to be as selfless as you!”

“Besides, I’m the one who really fucked up all this. I’m the one that put you in that bathroom with Nathan.”

Her eyes narrow at my words. “What are you saying?”

“I’m saying that if I’d been the friend you needed five years ago, if I’d been there for you…you never would have entered that bathroom! You deserved more from me, your “best friend,” than to leave you stranded, dealing with the loss of your father, your mom moving on, and all that other shit.”

“You know that’s true, Chloe. You threw it in my face the moment we were together again. And you were right to do that! I was and am a shitty friend and you deserve better! I was jealous of Rachel because I hated…hate myself for what I did to you! For what I keep doing to you!”

I didn’t mean to say all of that. When I finally started talking it just all tumbled out. My words were clipped and heated, filled with vitriol at myself.

“And that’s,” my breath is ragged and my hands are trying to do something, I don’t know what. But she still holds them fast, preventing them from fulfilling their desire. “And that’s really why…that’s really why… I hate myself. I hate myself. I hate myself.” Over and over I repeat those words, not caring anymore that she can hear them.

_Yes, you are a shitty friend, and what do people do with shitty friends?_

“Hey, Max,” her words are soft, soothing. “You need to tell your inner voice to shut up and get lost.”

“W-What? How do you know I’m doing that?”

“You get this look whenever you’re tearing yourself down. You’ve been doing it as long as I’ve known you. It’s one of the first things I got…Sad-”

“Just Max.”

“What?”

“Call her what she really is, Chloe: Max. Your girlfriend.” I feel something…warm inside when I said that, even as my own heart sinks.

“Oooooook. It’s one of the first things I got…Max…to open up about. We didn’t have a shared trauma to bond over, like I’m guessing you and the other Chloe did. We had to bond over other things, like renewed friendship and support. She supported me with Rachel, I supported her with Kate. We learned to talk, to be honest with each other, to feel safe with each other again.”

“We both made mistakes, Max. It’s not all on you. I could’ve tried harder to maintain our friendship. I didn’t. That’s on both of us.”

My head is shaking at her words, denying her part in it. Her hand gently cups my face, not letting me move. “Max,” her words are so quiet I have to strain to hear them, “stop shitting on yourself. You are stronger than you give yourself credit for. I’m not some noble selfless person like you paint me. I was trying to shake down Nathan for some money. Not you. Me. That’s not something a noble person does.”

Her eyes search mine. “Max, I already forgave you for ghosting me for five years. Well…I forgave the other Max, so now I’m telling you, I forgive you. Can you please forgive me for doing the same?”

Where is this Chloe coming from? Giving and asking forgiveness? It clashes with my memory of our week together.

My head turns aside. I’m unable to look at her. She’s too good for me.

**_Sh-she never asked me for forgiveness._ **

Those words give me pause. Do you forgive her?

**_YES!_ **

My mouth is dry and it takes awhile to get it working. “I-we forgive you also.”

_But you don’t forgive yourself._

Never.

A quizzical look crosses her face. I have a feeling this will come up again.

I want to change the subject. I have to change the subject.

“I never told you the reason why I came back after six months, Chloe.”

My breath catches because my mind once again wanders to Kate. Chloe brushes my bangs aside, her thumb tracing the outline of my eye, my face. “I started having visions again. Arcadia Bay is in danger!” Her thumb doesn’t stop its slow journey around my face.

“We’ll deal with that when we can, Max.” Her words are so soft I strain to hear them. “I’m not going on a mercy mission with you like this.”

My eyes shoot up to look at her. She’s so concerned looking right now. I don’t like waiting, delaying. Something eats at me, urging us to get on the road to Arcadia Bay.

_Yeah, just stay here and let that shit hole die!_

“Ok.” I don’t like it, but she makes a good point. How can I help Arcadia Bay when I’m such a mess?

“Do you think you can sleep?”

I nod, although really I’m uncertain whether I can. “Is it…ok if I…hold you in order to fall asleep?” My head ducks away. Even though my hands have been constantly touching her since coming here, I still feel like I’m invading her privacy.

Leaning forward, she kisses my forehead. “Will that help you sleep?”

“I…I think so?”

“Yes.” She takes my hands and leads me to the head of the bed and helps me slip under the covers. She lays out one of my arms and lies in a way to let me hold her.

I snuggle close, wrapping my arms around her tight. My head is tucked below her chin in a way that I can hear her heart beat. Her own arms wrap around me as well. I fall asleep soothed by her touch and the sound of her heart.

The rest of my sleep is undisturbed. I awaken to Chloe propped up gazing at me. “Like what you see,” I ask as I stretch.

“Hell yeah,” she replies with a cheeky grin. From behind her she produces a camera, her dad’s camera that she gave me. I freeze as I see it. Before I can say anything she takes a picture.

Jefferson looms over me, peering down at me. I’m lying prone, arms taped together. He’s muttering something I can’t quite hear. Flashes are going off as he takes picture after picture. Reflexively I struggle, try to get away.

He has me! No! I have to get away, but something is blinding me. Something is holding my wrists. I rip and tear and fight and kick and bite. I have to get away!

**_Shit! Max, it’s Chloe! It’s just Chloe!_ **

_Don’t listen! You have to hurt Jefferson! You have to get away!_

No matter how I fight or twist I can’t get away!

My sight suddenly clears. I’m lying in bed, Chloe draped over me. My breath is gone and I’m worn out. Slowly everything comes back while I stare at the ceiling. Chloe lifts her head to at me. She looks so scared.

When she sees me looking at her, she lets out a curse and drops her head. “Fuck, Max! What was that?” Her words are direct, and worry laces her voice.

“There are…some…things that your Max didn’t have to go through because I left the note in her journal.” My voice is strained, not fully under my control.

**_Don’t hide it from her, Max. You need to be open with her._ **

_Yes, Chloe, your little Max is not so pristine and innocent!_

I close my eyes because I don’t want to see how my words land. “In my timeline…I was one of Mark Jefferson’s ‘projects’. He captured me, took me to that darkroom, right after he shot you.”

She stiffens. “What?” Her voice is so cold it scares me.

“Yeah. He shot you. I watched you die-”

“Not that. What did that fucker do to you?” Anger puts an edge to her voice.

“He didn’t touch me, Chloe. At least not like _that.”_ My stomach churns and I shudder at just the thought. “Honestly, the way he makes you feel, you feel just as gross…dirty…as if he did something…”

“Prison is too good for that fucker.” Her words are hard and low.

“Ever since…I haven’t been able to take pictures. Flashes take me back to…that…place.” My eyes finally open. Revealing something so personal scares me. I’m expecting rejection, revulsion, or worse, pity. What I see is something different. Her brows are slightly raised and her eyes are searching my face.

“This is all part of what you meant last night, isn’t it?”

I nod my head. There is more, but I don’t want to burden her with so much so soon. The dark room is enough for now.

**_You made a good start. You still need to tell her everything._ **

I will, it’s too much right now. I don’t want to be a burden. I want time to enjoy her, to come to know her, without my problems weighing her down.

_All you are is a burden!_

“Ok. Ok. We can work with this…I think. We need to get you back into taking pictures.”

I open my mouth to protest, but she shakes her head and speaks first. Her voice is filled with such warmth my heart melts. “No, Max. I am not letting Jeffershit take one of your most beautiful things from you. There’s no way we’re going to let him ruin something you love.”

She rises from the bed, camera safely in hand, and strides over to the backpacks.

“Right now it’s time for food. We also should leave today. We’ve been here a week, which is about as long as we stay in one place.”

“To where?”

“I think we’ll go over to Bend. It’s been a while since we’ve been inland. I want to check out the parks and shit they have around there.”

My heart troubles me. Fleeing to Bend is not what we should do. I have to try again.

“We really should return to Arcadia Bay. I-”

“No!” Her voice cuts through mine. She throws the clothes she was holding to the floor and turns to me. The way she looks scares me. “I’m not returning to that shit hole!” Her voice is rising as she speaks and she starts walking toward me.

**_Don’t be scared! It will be ok!_ **

But I am scared. I don’t know what’s happening! She’s halfway to the bed, I’m scurrying to the other side, when she stops and closes her eyes. It’s then that I notice her hands are clenched. A shudder runs through her and she lets out a kind of strangled sob.

Eyes still closed, she says in a flat voice, “I’m sorry. We’re finally free of that place. Talking about returning frustrates me.” Her eyes open as she speaks. They look dull and don’t meet mine. “We should be able to talk about returning.”

Sitting on the other bed, she looks at her hands. What is going on?

**_It’s a technique for handling her feelings of abandonment._ **

_Go on! Ask her again to return!_

After fumbling with her hands for a while, she looks at me. “The way I see it, saving the town was the wrong choice. This time we let it get destroyed.”

Nodding slowly, I say, “Ok. Last time we saved the town, and that meant living without you for six months. I won’t make that choice again. But what about-” I cut myself off. I was about to ask about Joyce. That might be pushing it right now. Instead, after a pause, I say, “Ok, we’ll go to Bend.”

Giving me a weak smile, she rises and we prepare ourselves for the day.

Breakfast finds us where else, but in a diner. While waiting for our food to arrive I ask a question that’s been bugging me. “How do we have money for all this?”

“Well, we have hella cash!“ The smile on Chloe’s face could light up the room. “We are quite the creative women. Odd jobs sometimes, but mostly gambling.”

“Gambling?”

“Yeah, dude. Poker is crazy popular. You figured that out early. When we left Arcadia our first stop was Portland. It took some time, but we were able to get you in some games with good payouts. It didn’t hurt that in the beginning we played with sexist assholes who thought we were easy marks because of ‘female’.”

“I know how to play poker?”

The smile disappears from her face. “You…did?”

**_Don’t worry. If we need to do that again I’ll help you. It’s a lot of rewinding._ **

“I see,” I say aloud, forgetting Chloe can’t hear the conversation in my head.

“We have enough left over to last us a while. Plenty of time for you to relearn before then.”

Our food comes, saving me from providing an answer. It does allow me to change the topic.

“Where are we? I mean, what town?”

“Right now we’re in Coos Bay. My plan is to head inland to Bend, it’s about four or five hours East.”

We finish breakfast and pile into the car. After fueling it, we hit the highway.


	5. Road

Chloe doesn’t waste any time in heading east. It’s at least a four and a half hour trip straight through, barring stops, traffic, and incidents. The fact we aren’t going to Arcadia Bay really disturbs me. I try to hide it, but I’m sure she knows. At the same time, what she said also makes sense.

The car is comfortable, fast, and handles well. I can tell Chloe enjoys driving it. Her hand is on the gear shift, it’s a manual, and my hand is once again on hers. Her phone is connected via bluetooth and some punk music is playing. Once we’re out of town, I turn down the music to background level and ask her, “Can you tell me about the six months I missed with you?”

Shooting me a glance, she says, “Yeah, sure, dude. But you gotta tell me the same about you.”

I nod in agreement.

“You really fucked up my life that week.”

“What?! How?”

“You..ur Max came back for a start. That was the best part of the week. Max managed to convince David to go check out that dark room. He got one of his cop buddies to arrest Jefferson and Nathan. It turned David into a local hero because Max refused to have anything to do with it.”

“That sounds good…”

“For a time…he became human and we got along…ok. That didn’t last long though. Once all the attention died down, he used the dark room to justify adding more surveillance everywhere. Then he put me under curfew and confiscated everything but my clothes. If it wasn’t for Max I wouldn’t have kept my truck.”

“Oh. Oh! Oh, Chloe I’m so sorry!”

“Chill. You didn’t know that would happen. Don’t shit more on yourself because of him.”

Despite her words I feel worse. My intent was to make things better for her and I didn’t.

“Did he…stop hitting you?”

My question elicits only silence from her. Under my hand I feel hers tighten. “I don’t know if your Max saw it. In my…timeline he hit you when he found your stash. I-I couldn’t bear for that to happen to you so I rewound and took the blame.”

She looks at me and I can’t read her expression. “If that happened to us, Max never told me.” She focuses again on the road letting silence fill the car.

**_I never hid in the closet. He never hit her in my presence._ **

“You really did that, took the blame for me?”

“Yeah. I hate seeing you get hurt. So I took the blame. I thought he was going to hit me as well he was so mad.”

After another period of silence, she says, “I don’t know what to say, Max. That was something she and I never talked about. I didn’t want her to worry about me or visiting me. I thought if she was scared of David…well it was a dumb thing for me to do.”

**_I suspected something wasn’t right between the two of them, more than regular step-parent resentment. We never talked about it though._ **

Wait! What? Why didn’t you talk to her about it?

**_One thing at a time. Besides I was trying to help by always being with her when he was around. He doesn’t act the same when other people were present._ **

That’s pretty smart. I’ll need to do the same when we are around him.

The silent conversation I’m having gives Chloe some breathing space which she uses to collect herself. Her entire body relaxes into the seat after a few moments and her breathing slows. I give her hand a little squeeze which brings a smile to her, that she turns on me.

“Where were we?”

“Jefferson and Nathan were arrested by one of Davids cop buddies.”

“Ah, yeah. Anyway, it was a lot easier to convince David about the dark room right after Kate…” She immediately stops talking and glances at me. “Shit. I’m sorry about that.”

I look out the window at her words, not trusting I’ll remain in control of myself. Her hand turns over to grab mine and squeezes.

I miss you, Kate.

“Could…could we go visit her grave? So I…can say goodbye.”

“Yeah, Max, we can do that.”

I watch the trees and hills we’re passing. After a long silence, she starts speaking again. “It was that Tuesday that you, I mean Max, and I really connected again. She took such shit from me that day. I was so upset about losing Rachel and I took it all out on her. And here she’d just lost a friend…”

“I-I never got to tell…Max this-” Her voice is choked. Her grip on my hand tightens. “I wanted her to hate me. I was so mad at you for leaving me five years ago, and then for Rachel dying, I just wanted to push her away.”

“And she wouldn’t let go. The harder I pushed, the angrier I became, the tighter she held me. Not in a controlling way either, like Joyce and David tried to do. She…I used to think Rachel was my angel. I won’t deny that she helped me a lot when you were gone. She was and is special to me. But Max, you, I mean, Max, are in a different class. Shit this time travel stuff really messes with the brain.”

I try to push what she was saying out my mind. Her Max. Me. Her Max. She’s not trying to hurt me, this whole situation is confusing. But she needs her anchor, as the letter said, and I’m just a poor substitute.

**_No, you aren’t!_ **

“Max stuck with it. She got me to open up about…well about everything. About feeling abandoned by you and dad. About feeling worthless because my mom didn’t even want me. Joyce went off and hooked up with David as soon as she could. Max listened without judgement. And at the end, she just held me and apologized for her part in it. She said that now that she was back she had no intention of going away and we’d deal with these things together.”

She falls silent, watching the road and her speed. Our hands are still clasped and she’s holding tight. For a while we drive in silence, deep in our own thoughts.

“It was the first time in a long time that I felt…valued for being me.” Her words are soft, tinged with a wistfulness that dances in her words.

For me this was the first time I got to hear this from Chloe’s perspective, about how I contributed to fucking up her life. I know she forgave me…but I still couldn’t forgive myself.

_You shouldn’t forgive yourself, you fuck-up!_

**_I never forgave myself either, Max._ **

**_“_** It sounds like it was just one day, but it was actually weeks that Max put up with that. You know, she actually got me to go to see a therapist? They helped me learn a few things to deal with my issues, and got me some meds for my depression.”

Wow. Her Max sounds so amazing. No wonder she misses her. What do I have to offer? Just the ability to fuck up peoples lives.

**_That’s not true!_ **

_It’s nothing but the truth!_

**“** She drove with me there, you know? She took a day off of school each week and we drove to Portland together. Just so I could get help. That’s just the type of person you are.”

The type of person I am? No, I’m not that type at all. All I do is give pain.

**_You are more than that, Max!_ **

When I thought my voice was calm enough, I asked, “did Max talk about those five years she was gone?”

“Nah, not really. Of course…I didn’t ask.”

Really?

**_No, I didn’t talk about that, just our feeling like shit for abandoning her._ **

Now it’s my turn to grip her hand. “It was four years without friends. Without you…well Chloe, you were always able to get me to do things I couldn’t or wouldn’t do on my own, like talk to other people.”

“That’s bullshit, you talked to plenty of people at Blackwell.”

“You’re right about that. I was really excited to go to Blackwell and I was determined to make some friends. That determination really helped. Once I discovered my rewind ability, that gave me a lot of confidence. I realized I could rewind my mistakes.”

“That’s not how it was when I moved away. I wasn’t excited to move to Seattle. I was just figuring out I was crushing on you, it really confused me. And then your dad…I…realized…I wasn’t ready to go on an adventure by myself. I was not determined to make friends. All I could think about was you and how much I missed you. That first year…I remember hiding invitations to my birthday party and claiming everyone was busy.”

“Shit, Max.” She glances at me, giving me a worried look that I barely catch. Talking about that part of my life is a painful reminder of how I failed her.

“That first year…I wrote a lot of letters to you, but they were so cringe-worthy I couldn’t bring myself to send them. Time went by so fast while I tried to sort myself out. It was so easy to tell myself that it was too late to call you, to contact you. Everyone I met I compared to you. Even the few times I started dating.”

“So you really were gay for me since thirteen!”

My eyes roll at her comment. “Yes, Chloe.”

A pause, then, “that’s the second time you’ve asked me that. Is there another reason you ask besides embarrassing me?”

Her eyes dart to me and she doesn’t answer for a while. Her mouth tightens and she leans forward a little. “It’s the same answer as…her.” Her words are so soft I almost don’t catch them. Her. So she’s comparing me to…her Max. I file that away for later.

“Anyway, the last year or so I did make a couple of friends and I was starting to open up a bit more. Gain more confidence. I was still lonely and hoping for a big change coming back to Arcadia Bay.”

“Yeah…I uh…read your journal.”

That should surprise me, but it doesn’t. It just seems so…Chloe for some reason.

“The part I didn’t write was that I hoped we still connected like we did when we were kids. While it was J-Jefferson that drew me, that was really an excuse I could use with my parents to get back to Arcadia Bay…and you.”

Another silence falls upon us. I gaze out the window. We’re approaching Eugene. Another couple of hours and we’ll be in Bend.

“Looks like that part worked.”

“In ways I never imagined.” Another pause, then, “what do our parents know about us…about me?”

“Joyce and David know we’re together. There was no way we could hide this from her.”

That sounds positive. Part of me wondered what our friends and family would think. That’s something that added to my confusion years ago. Facing everyone, more like everyone looking at me for answers.

“Step-douche of course has issues with it. I think he believes it’s another failure in his role as a man and father figure for me. Fucker.”

Wow! The vitriol in her words. There’s something she’s not telling me. Max?

**_We told them just before we left town. Let’s just say that was good timing._ **

Really? That’s all you’re going to tell me?

“They also know we’re ok. We find different ways to communicate with them. The official story we told them is that all the stuff at school really messed you up. You needed to get away from it all for a while. I don’t think they really bought it, but they didn’t try to stop us.”

“Your parents…your parents don’t really know what’s going on. Max didn’t want to tell them about us being a couple until…after you switched places.”

She watches the road a few minutes then continues, “I think Max was afraid to tell your parents about us.” Yeah, my parents are pretty strict. It was hard to bring friends home, with all the rules they had to follow. Since my dating life was so hit-or-miss, they never met or knew anyone I dated. What would they think of Chloe and I being together?

“Anyway, we told them the same story about school being too much. None of them know how to contact us. Max did that on purpose. The only reason we have phones is in case we get separated.”

I look at her and I cannot keep the incredulity from my voice. “I doubt either Joyce or my parents are ok with any of this. How are my parents at least not looking for us, or alerting the cops about us?”

Chloe just shrugs. “I don’t disagree with you. We haven’t had problems…yet. But we are also trying to keep a low profile. And we have fake IDs.”

“What?!”

“Fuck yeah! It’s great what you can get off the Internet, if you look in the right places. You are looking at Lauren Jensen. And you, you are Cyan Taylor.”

“Where…did we come up with those terrible names?”

**_Chloe picked Cyan for you._ **

Oh.

“Chosen at random. We used an online name generator.”

“A name generator picked Cyan for me?”

“Ok, hell. It actually picked Julie. I changed it to Cyan before we submitted it. Having you named after my hair color…I don’t know…I thought it was cool.”

**_And by ‘cool’ she means sweet._ **

“I got it, ‘Cyan’.” I lean over and rest my head on her shoulder. “That’s very sweet.”

“Fuckin’ hell.”

“Tell me again why we’re on the run.”

“Well it wasn’t to get new names. Guys after us. Trying to rough us up. Working for Nathan Prescott. Each time Max messed them up. She never told me why.”

“You already know the rest. We used your rewind to make money at poker. Pay cash, or use disposable debit cards for everything. We only stay a week in one place. Oh, I forgot. At first we stayed longer in towns. Then those guys caught up with us.”

“I don’t remember the name of the town. It was on the North coast of Oregon. We decided my truck was too easy for them to spot. So we ditched it. We got this car soon after that.”

In Eugene we stop for a quick break. It’s just long enough to use the bathroom, refuel the car, and to get snacks. Then it’s back on the road, driving east.

Several minutes outside Eugene she asks. “What happened during that week in your timeline?”

We are holding hands again; mine unconsciously tightens on hers at the question. I’ve already told her some of the more painful parts. Why hesitate telling her the rest? Because I’m still ashamed of some of my actions and how the power transformed me. Most of all because of the memories. But I need to trust Chloe. I need to open myself to her.

I’m focused on the hills and trees as I begin the story. I keep my voice low and steady, starting from the moment I experienced the weird hard rewind in the bathroom. My intent is to just hit the highlights, like I did with Kate, but I’m sharing details. Things I forgot sweep into vivid memory. Details I tried to forget because they reopen wounds.

Saving her in the restroom.

Saving Kate. My ability to freeze time.

Breaking into Blackwell. The night swim in the pool.

Sleeping at Chloe’s. A dare and a kiss.

“Wait! What! You mean all I had to do all that time was dare you?!”

“Uh, yeah, Chloe. Didn’t you dare me in this timeline?”

“No! Because you changed the timeline! In my-this timeline you blamed Jeffershit for… You waited around for David and that’s when you convinced him to go to that abandoned farm. You came to my house after that. You…you told me about Rachel that night. We were both so fucked up by the day’s events we didn’t think of doing anything other than crying on each other’s shoulder.”

“It wasn’t until a week later that I worked up the courage to kiss you…ur I mean Max. Damn it keeping the two of you straight is hard. Although I really wanted to kiss her, we were both freaked out when I did it.”

Kate. My mind wonders to our last few minutes together. She was so confident that we’d be friends right now. So focused on me reconnecting to Chloe. What kind of person does that? What kind of person puts the needs of others before their own? I already know the answer to that: a person like Kate.

Chloe pauses, glancing between me and the road. “I wonder…if Max would have kissed me if I dared her…”

**_Yes, I would have._ **

“I think she would have, Chloe.”

She looks at me, that same funny expression on her face. Before she can think more about that, I dive back into the story. “That day I went around wearing Rachel’s clothes, because they were the only ones you had that fit me. We decided that we needed to investigate Frank’s RV.”

“Frank…Frank Bowers?”

“Yeah.” I pause then, wondering how much Chloe knows about Rachel’s past with Frank.

**_We never went into Frank’s RV. Chloe doesn’t know that she was hooking up with Frank. In fact I never met Frank._ **

Shit. Why? Why do I have to know this? Do I tell her? What if it never happened in this timeline? Somehow I know that Rachel hid her other relationships in this timeline.

My eyes study the floor, then Chloe’s profile. I can’t look at her while I say this. I can’t! But she’ll need me…

_She’ll need you to fuck up her life!_

Enfolding her hand with both of mine, I raise it and give it a kiss. “Chloe-” my voice catches. Can I really do this? Can I really cause this pain to Chloe, again?

“What’s with all the mushy stuff?”

Now she’s looking at me. Shooting glances between the road and me. She knows something is up. I’m so bad at this. Steeling myself, I look at her.

“Chloe…I don’t know a good way to say this, or a gentle way. When we broke into Frank’s RV we discovered that Frank and Rachel…had been hooking up.”

Her hand tightens on the wheel. Freeing her other hand from mine she angrily swipes at her eyes, dashing tears that had formed.

“Fucking shit on a stick.”

_Pain! It’s what’s for dinner._

“I’m sorry-”

“What do you have to be sorry about, Max? You didn’t make them do…what ever! You-” She breaks off her angry outburst and draws a deep breath.

Her hand takes up mine again. Drawing it to her mouth, she kisses my fingers. “Sorry, Max. I know you are trying to help. Learning that Rachel had a secret life hurts. It hurts so much!”

My mouth falls open as I stare at this amazing woman next to me! The maturity she just showed is in stark contrast with the timeline I lived through.

**_I wish we didn’t have to run. The therapy helped her so much!_ **

“Well…when it happened you were fucking pissed. I tried to help you then…but you weren’t ready. You were so mad. You were in such pain…that I-”

Telling this is so hard. I can feel tears forming in my own eyes.

“That’s when I discovered I could travel through time using pictures.”

Stunned silence, then, “My Max never discovered that use!”

**_Truth._ **

“Well, it’s a great way to really fuck things up, including me!”

“What happened?”

“You were in such pain that I couldn’t stand it. I wanted so much to make things better for you. When we were arguing over Rachel screwing Frank you said you blamed your dad dying, because that’s when all your problems started.”

My hand is picking at my pants, the car seat, anything it can touch. Again I cannot look at her. My eyes flit here and there.

“So…I kind of…went back and stopped…your dad from dying…”

Her hand goes limp in my grasp. I look at her, her eyes are staring vacantly ahead. “Chloe?” Louder. “Chloe!”

Her head jerks as she refocuses.

“Chloe, why don’t you pull over for this part.”

She obediently slows and pulls onto a side road, parking on its shoulder. Killing the engine, she turns to regard me.

“My dad’s not alive now…I’m guessing it didn’t work?”

“Oh it worked alright. It worked too well. It’s what made me question whether my ability is a gift or a curse!”

She takes up one of my hands in hers. Her eyes are focused on it, making it easier for me to speak.

“When I returned to my regular timeline, William was still alive, but other things were different. I was…I was a member of the Vortex Club. Rachel was still missing. The first thing I did was leave school and go to your house.”

A shudder passes through me as I recall those events.

“William answered the door. It was one of the happiest moments in my life…and one of the saddest. William was so happy to see me. His face lit up when he opened the door. There was such life in his voice when he called for you. When you came…out…you were paralyzed from the neck down. Instead of William dying in a car wreck, you were paralyzed in a car wreck.”

_Do we notice the common theme: pain!_

“In that timeline you never knew Rachel. I was the only friend who kept in touch, but your parents hid the wreck from me.” At this point I focus on the scenery out the side window. Our hands are still clasped. She holds my hand in her lap, stroking it with the other. I can’t bear to look at her while I share this part.

The fact that she wants to touch me…is willing to touch me…she doesn’t know the full story yet.

“We spent time together, at the beach, watching Blade Runner, talking. You were in so much pain. Your parents were drowning in debt. The doctors told your parents you only had a few months of life left, your respiratory system was shutting down.”

My mind is starting to rebel and my free hand is jittery. It moves from my lap to the door and bag, seeking something to touch and feel. It wants to do something more, something darker.

“You asked me to help you die. You said it was the last decision you felt like you might have any control over. You wanted our time together to be your last memories…”

My eyes screw shut. She’s there again, lying in that bed. The plea in her voice, the look in her eyes. It cuts me just as deep as when I was there.

“Did you?” Her voice is soft, tinged with what might be fear. I’m relishing the darkness only I can see.

“Yes.”

_FUCK! YOU!_

My head jerks at the sudden onslaught of hate and anger that wells from an unknown place inside me. The words hurt in a way words shouldn’t be able to.

The stroking on my hand stops. My body tenses, waiting for it. Waiting for the hate, the blame, the rejection.

“How can you do this, Max!”

_BECAUSE YOU AREN’T HAPPY UNLESS YOU BRING PAIN TO OTHERS!_

There it is. “I’m sorry Chloe, I just couldn’t bear to see you in pain and to know I caused it. I fucking put you in that chair!” My thoughts scatter under the onslaught of wild emotion coursing through me. My hand jerks from hers and I start beating my head as if I could drive these memories out of my mind.

“Max! No! Stop!”

Her hands fumble at my wrists, finally grabbing them and pulling them away from my head. “Max, no. You misunderstand! I’m not blaming you! I put you in such a bullshit situation where I didn’t care about your feelings. I didn’t care about what would happen to you after my death! My parents would have been pissed!”

_Pissed is putting it mildly. Murderer! Monster!_

“What I want to know…” She angles her body so I can see her. “What I want to know is why you keep putting up with my bullshit and doing all these things for me? Why do you hurt yourself over and over for me?”

My breath catches. Her question is on the one topic I still struggle with: expressing my feelings. I look at her. Now’s the time. The time to tell her in person what I couldn’t five years ago. No tape recorder, no one and nothing else, just me and my voice, my thoughts and feelings.

And like always my confidence flees. I know the words. I know what I should say. But I’m not prepared. I’ve not practiced the words and they won’t come. It’s one thing to recite facts and events. It’s another to be personal, to speak of the things that flit through my head, powerful and enormous.

What if I’m not good enough? I wasn’t for five years. Why is it any different now?

What if Chloe really wants her other Max? She seemed so capable, so confident. I’ve seen how Chloe looks whenever she speaks of her Max. Her Max. How her face glows and looks so alive. Surely that Max is the woman Chloe needs. She was able to help Chloe heal! All I have done is bring more pain.

_Pain is all you are!_

How much easier this was when I was content to rewind conversations. I could stumble and stammer all I wanted, then rewind. The next go at it I always had more confidence. But that is not what I want with Chloe.

I’m agonizing over the words to say. Remarkably, Chloe is patient. She doesn’t push me, just waits.

Another breath. In and out. I did this once before, I can do it again. With eyes closed, I say, “Because Chloe Elizabeth Price, I would…do anything for you.” Blah. I can’t even say the word. Besides, is it really love if I’ve only truly known her a few days?

Before I can do anything, her face is in mine and she gives me a chaste kiss on my lips. Then another. Then something more. I melt into her and she’s not holding back.

Breathless we break away, but remain close, breathing each other. My hand reaches up to trace her jaw. “Wowsers!” And for the briefest of moments I see warmth and affection for me in her eyes. For that moment I can believe I’m worth something.

Until it, and her grin, fades. Her face becomes sad and concerned. The emptiness grows within me again as her mind catches up and rejects me.

“What’s wr-” Before I can complete the sentence she’s out of the car, leaning against it. Unbuckling my seat belt, I leave the car.

“Don’t,” she says, her tone very serious. I look at her. What is going on?

_Isn’t it obvious? She doesn’t want you! Worthless!_

Looking down, I hold onto the door, then slowly close it. She begins pacing on the other side. Her body is so tense as she goes to and fro. “Chloe,” I begin again.

“Don’t you get it,” she growls. “I can’t do this! I can’t-” She bites off her own sentence.

Shuffling around the car I approach her, my hand raised, hesitant. I shouldn’t bother her. I’m no good for her. The way she looks though, so lost, so angry. I did that to her, and I can’t bear her being in that pain.

She stops her pacing and glares at me. Taking a breath, I push aside the emotions and thoughts trying to overwhelm me and step to her side. When I touch her, she flinches, but doesn’t say anything. My mind dredges up something I tried to forget, those times I had to go to the school counselor. I never responded to her, but I do remember some of things she used to get me to talk to her.

“Talk to me, please,” I ask. Her head turns away and she slouches to one side. Her reaction to our kiss, just like last night, her rejection, it’s all very familiar. She’s afraid of getting hurt again.

“Tell me..what do you see or think when you look at me?”

“I see her…you.”

“How does that make you feel?”

For a long time she just stands there, looking away from me. “Confused. Hurt. Angry.”

“Tell me about being confused.”

“You and her…you’re so similar. I forget. Then you do something that slaps me in the fucking face, telling me you’re different.”

“And that hurts?”

She nods. “You hurt too, don’t you?”

My breath hitches at her question. I drop my hand to my side and look down. “Did you think you’d come here and find sunshine and happiness, Max?”

Shaking my head, I said, “I didn’t really think about what would happen. I hoped things…you and I would be ok with each other.”

Her fingers rest below my chin, gently lifting my head. Her eyes look at me, studying my features. “Don’t get me wrong. I want us to be together. You are still Max. In many ways you are the girl who helped me, the girl I fell for six months ago. It’s just…I feel like I’m betraying her. And I’m…”

_Because she is!_

“What?”

She shakes her head, apparently not able to continue. My heart sinks. What do I do about this? How can I help her?

Taking Chloe’s hands in mine, I say, “I…don’t know what to say to that Chloe. My heart is torn. I was so desperate to return to you that…I didn’t consider what that would mean for you…and the me I replace. I’m trying not to push things. I’ll accept whatever you give me.”

She gives me an odd look and pulls me in for a long hug. “Yeah, we can do that,” she says after a while. Separating we return to the car, and our drive. What a mess I’ve made of everything.

_One spectacular Max Disaster coming up!_

I’m sorry about all this. I was selfish and I ended up hurting Chloe and her Max. All I do is bring death and destruction. My words spoken on that hill in a timeline that never happened, are still true now.

Silence greets my thoughts.

We drive for another hour before Chloe breaks the silence. “Why now? I mean, you told me you started having visions again. Why did you decide to change things and come back now?”

I tell her about the conversations I had with the homeless lady and Samuel, and the visions. The visions I haven’t had since coming here.

“So…a few conversations and visions and you decide to redo things? And you haven’t had those visions in this timeline?”

“No. I don’t know why. Maybe because I’ve only been here a few hours? Maybe I need to be close to Arcadia Bay to have visions about it? Maybe because it doesn’t happen in this timeline? Maybe because you didn’t die in this timeline? I have no idea.”

“Max stopped having her visions after the stuff with Jeffershit. Maybe there’s a connection?”

I shrug. What else can I do? I need to think about it. And honestly I have something else on my mind.

Max…please talk to me.

Silence.

We arrive in Bend not after that. After a few minutes, we pull into the parking lot of a hotel. I notice she checks us into a better class of hotel than last time.

“You picked a nice place, Chloe,” I remark as we enter our room. “Why was the last one so…gross?”

“Eh. The last one was Max’s idea. She…wasn’t really happy about the switch. The room matched her mood.”

My mouth purses at her comment. Well it’s good to know that her Max can also be petty. There’s no comment from her, just a general sense of unease deep within me.

We still have a good part of the day ahead of us. Our first order of business is lunch. We pick up food at a drive thru, and drive to Drake Park. She finds us a place to sit near Mirror Pond and we enjoy our late lunch.

The view is spectacular. Mountains in the distance with forest around us, all reflected in the pond. It reminds me of trips when I was little. My parents would take me to parks around Arcadia Bay a few times when I was really little. My mom was afraid I’d get hurt and my dad got tired of the mess I made in the car so we stopped going. Most of my time in parks after that were with Chloe and her family.

Finishing my food, I place the trash in the bag and go closer to the pond. The view is spectacular, yet it triggers uncertainty in me. Are my parents really not worried about me? Is disaster still coming for Arcadia Bay? Am I willing to trade all of them for Chloe?

The last question is the only one I immediately answer. Yes, I will trade all of them for Chloe. Even though I feel like a giant fuck-up, both with ghosting her for five years, and now by replacing the girl who was helping her with a broken model.

**_Focus on the good things about yourself, not the bad things._ **

Lost in my thoughts I’m startled when Chloe appears next to me. Immediately I notice the itch in my hands to touch her. I try to repress it. She must certainly be sick of my constantly touching her. Her arm brushes mine and my hand slides into hers, entwining our fingers.

“It’s a hella beautiful view, isn’t it?”

I’m staring at the pond, taking in the view and trying not to think about how I fucked up our lives. She’s trying so hard not to let what happened push her away. Now she’s beside me, choosing to be close to me. A wind springs up and ruffles her hair. She squints as she looks across the pond. She’s wearing the blue beanie. I adore everything about her look.

“Why’d you bring us here?”

Her fingers tighten on mine. “I can’t shake this feeling shit’s about to get real.” The wind plays tag with her quiet words, making them hard to catch. I strain to hear. “When Max came back into my life last October, everything got really fucked up. Now…you switch places and I feel like something similar will happen.”

We stand and watch the wind ripple the water. It’s strange to think we’re in the middle of town amid such beauty.

“You won’t leave me too, will you?”

_As soon as you can!_

My chest tightens as I understand what’s behind those words. Abandonment. Turning to peer up at her, I say, “I won’t leave you. It’s Max and Chloe forever!”

A thin smile that doesn’t touch her eyes crosses her face. “Forever,” she echoes, “that’s a long time, Max. So many things can go wrong.”

“It is…and together we can make it through anything.”

“Together.” She breathes the word. There’s a light in her eyes that I hope is good.

“Can I ask you something…different?”

With an empty laugh she says, “yeah, sure.”

“When did you stop smoking?”

Fully present now she looks at me. “You noticed?” Do I detect something like hope in her voice?

“Yes. I didn’t see any cigarette packs when we packed this morning. The only time you lit up was after we returned from Walgreens last night, and I’m pretty sure that was just a joint. And…your clothes…” Ugh, I don’t want to say that part.

Scuffing her shoe on the ground she’s silent a while. “I stopped in November. Smoked the last one in my pack and never bought another.”

“That’s wonderful, Chloe! I’m so proud of you. Why did you stop?”

“We happened, Max.” A pained look crushes her face and I think she’s about to correct herself.

Reaching up to touch her cheek, I say, “I know what you mean. I’m…sorry.”

Her look turns pissed for a moment as she says, “you need to stop apologizing. I know you didn’t mean to hurt us.” Stopping the next words she was about to say, she takes a deep breath before continuing.

“I started smoking to piss off Joyce and to deal with the stress of losing you and dad. Honestly, that’s something Rachel didn’t help with. She made it even easier. When Max and I got together things started to change. She accepted everything from me and didn’t try to fix me, just supported me. But she also didn’t tolerate some of my less scrupulous ways.”

I remembered her calling me Moral Max when I wouldn’t let her take the money from Wells’ office.

“When I started with a therapist, other things started clicking into place. I realized my original reasons for smoking no longer existed.”

She turns her gaze back to the pond. “Honestly, the note you left for Max was what got everything started. Don’t sacrifice Chloe! All dramatic and shit. But it told me I had died and you were pissed by it.”

Stooping she finds a rock and skips it across the pond.

“For the longest time I thought no one would care if I died. Those words told me someone did care.” She skips another rock. “It wasn’t an instant change, but those words…they burned into me in a way.” She turns her grin on me. “I’ve still plenty of vices ‘Moral Max’,” she said and her tone is joking.

Nodding my head and smiling in return I say, “Drinking, self-medication, swearing like a sail-like a pirate!” Her grin grows crooked as I list them off.

“I’m not looking to change you, Chloe. I want to know how to support you.”

Her face grows serious at my words and her hand reaches out to touch my cheek. “Seriously? You just went through six months of hell. You have problems of your own.” Her fingers lightly touch my head where I hit it earlier and I flinch from the pain,” and you’re thinking about how to help me?”

“Y-yes.”

Her response is to pull me in for a hug.

We spend the rest of the evening exploring the downtown area and planning things to do over the next week. Along with the various parks Chloe wants to explore, we discover Bend is the last location for a Blockbuster video, and there are a number of microbreweries she wants to visit. The week should pass quickly.

After a simple dinner, we return to the hotel and climb into bed. I’m still awkward and stiff, feeling like I’m invading her space. She shrugs it off, but I see it in her eyes. She’s still not comfortable with me, not fully accepting. As I slip into sleep my last thoughts are of her and how I can help her.


	6. Bend

My fingers tightens on the gun as I shove it into the girl’s stomach. How dare she threaten me and try to get money from me!

“You don’t know who the fuck I am or who you’re messing around with!” The words feel so good to say. Let this bitch know what’s about to go down!

“Where’d you get that? What are you doing? Come on, put that thing down!”

Her fear feeds the anger inside of me. The control over her is so…satisfying. It’s a glorious feeling and I let it loose!

“Don’t EVER tell me what to do. I’m so SICK of people trying to control me!”

“You are going to get in hella more trouble for this than drugs-”

“Nobody would ever even miss your ‘punk ass’ would they?”

“Get that gun away from me, psycho!”

A sneer twists my face as I glare into the blue-haired girls face. She’ll learn! Just like they all will! I pull the trigger and an energy courses through me as the shot reverberates in the bathroom.

A scream rips from my lungs as I fling myself away. My pounding heart drowns all other sounds. With a sickening lurch the bathroom fades into the darkness of the hotel room. Chloe lies on the bed sleeping, sheet and blanket draped over her. My hand grips my shirt, tightening until it hurts.

Hands roughly spin me around and push me. Shocked by the suddenness of it, I stumble to the ground, slamming into the carpeted floor painfully. Max looms over me, the hateful one. Her eyes seem to glow a baleful color in the dim light.

“You disgust me,” she spits. “It’s not the first time you killed and it won’t be the last.” She turns and storms away.

Again the room changes, fading back into the bathroom scene. Chloe stares at me lifeless, blood seeping from the hole blown into her middle. It coats my hands and clothes.

I know it’s not real, I know it’s another dream…or something by that hateful Max. But my heart doesn’t care. Seeing those eyes, once vibrant and full of spunk and life drained and empty tears at me. I clutch her shirt as my world falls apart.

“Max!”

Light pierces my eyes, blinding me. Someone is looming over me, shadowy and indistinct. Short hair and glowing eyes, it’s her again! I turn my head and cry, “Go away! Haven’t you hurt me enough tonight!”

“H-hurt you?”

That…that’s not her voice! Turning my head I see Chloe is leaning over me. I also notice I’m holding tight to her shirt, much as I was in the nightmare.

A strangle cry bursts from me as relief floods my system. I loosen my hold, letting my hands fall to my sides. We’re in bed in the hotel room. One of the wall lamps is on, casting a pale light around us.

“I’m guessing that was a nightmare? You were shouting something, then you grabbed my shirt and pulled me over you. Damn Max, when did you get that strong?”

There’s a lighthearted tone in her voice, but concern is writ in the way her brow creases over her eyes. Her eyes that just moments ago were empty and dull in my dream. All I can do is stare at her eyes, once again alive.

She rolls onto her side and sits up, pulling me with her. “Tell me about it,” she urges. Folding my legs I look into my lap, hands restless.

“It was…” what was it exactly? At one time similar to that nightmare that plagued me for months, and so different. “It was the nightmare I’ve had for months, where you’re shot in the bathroom. Only this time…I was the one shooting you.” My eyes stay down as I tell her. I can’t look into her eyes, those eyes I dulled with death.

She lifts my head by the chin, her eyes searching mine. “You didn’t shoot me,” she whispers. I try to turn away, but her hand has my chin caught fast.

“Yes-”

“No! Like I told you last night, it wasn’t your fault.”

“I-”

“Max!” I flinch at the irritation in her voice. “I’m sorry,” she says, voice smoothing into kindness. ”It wasn’t your fault. You did not put me in that bathroom.”

Her fingers loosen on my chin allowing me to turn away. I know she’s trying to make me feel better, but I can’t let that guilt go free.

“What did…” Her voice dies but I think I know what she wants to ask.

“What did Kate do when I had those nightmares? Is that what you want to know?” From the corner of my eye I see her nod.

“She’d…” My breath catches as thoughts of Kate dance through my head. All that time she spent with me, helping me cope through the night. The things she shared with me, things that helped pull her out of her darkness. Fingers brush mine and I start, eyes jerking back to Chloe.

Swallowing dryly I try again. “She’d hold me…and…and tell me it was ok to feel pain and sadness. She’d remind me to breath. She’d tell me it was horrible what I went through. That it didn’t make me bad.” My voice is trembling now, stirred by the pain welling up from deep inside. More guilt layers atop what I already feel. My emotions are too unstable to produce anything beyond hopelessness.

“You don’t have to do that. I know…”

“Forget what you think you know.” Her arms wrap around me and pull me onto her lap.

  


The morning light finds me still wrapped in her arms. Her chin rests on my head as we share a pillow. “Good morning,” she says as I stir. Turning over to look at her, I study her.

“Did you get any sleep?”

“Yeah, don’t worry about me.”

“I’m always going to worry about you.”

She laughs at that. “Well, let’s worry about the good times we’ll have on this hella good day. Go take your shower munchkin.”

“You are in a good mood.”

A shower and clean clothes finds me ready for the new day. While she’s tossing on her clothes, hair still damp from her shower, I see a bottle of pills on the bedside table. “Would you mind giving me those,” she says as I move toward the table.

“Sure,” I say as I pick them up. I scan the label quickly before tossing them, seeing they are prescribed to her. “What are they for?”

Grabbing the bottle from the air, she tucks it into a pocket. “My happy pills.” I must have made a face at that since she sighs and adds, “my antidepressants. I’m almost out. We’ll need to go by the pharmacy later today to see if my prescription was refilled.”

Nodding as I put on my shoes I think about what she said. Therapy and antidepressants. A lot has changed in six months. My heart sinks as I think how wonderful her Max must be, to bring her to a place where she’s healing.

These depressing thoughts occupy me as I grab my bag, we leave our room and head toward the lobby. Chloe doesn’t seem to notice. She’s happy and almost skipping as we head down the hall.

Chloe decides to splurge and we eat in the hotel restaurant. The prices seem a little high, especially for the amount of food we get. The coffee isn’t that great either. She’s so happy though so I keep these thoughts to myself.

With breakfast done we wander onto the streets of Bend. Taking my hand, Chloe leads us to the downtown shops. Most of them are closed since it’s Sunday. That doesn’t matter to her though as she goes from window to window, peering inside and making punny comments.

One of the shops we find open has a small collection of shirts and jewelry that belong in Chloe’s wardrobe. The shirt racks catches her eye, and she wanders over to go through them. My own eye is caught by the jewelry display.

Slowly spinning one of the displays a glint of gold catches my eye, a cross. My finger lightly traces it as I feel again Kate’s hand on mine.

_Killer!_

I flinch, jerking my hand away from the jewelry. My hand rises again, finger seeking the cool metal.

_You let her die!_

My hand jerks to my chest, forming into a fist. My eyes close, which makes it worse. Now I see Kate before me, her hand reaching out to me. Turning, I open my eyes and quickly make my way from the store. Leaning against the wall outside I try to relax, to breath.

With a deep breath in, I wriggle my toes. Letting it out I focus on how that feels, my chest relaxing as the air rushes through. The old stone of the building under my hands is cool. Again and again I breath, letting my body feel and focus on that.

“Hey.”

Her voice surprises me and I jump. She’s standing near enough to touch me but she doesn’t.

_Why would she want to touch you!_

Smiling weakly I look at her before ducking my head.

“Can we…can we do something else?”

“Sure. Yeah.” Without a moment’s hesitation she takes my hand in hers. A shudder passes through me at her touch, causing her to shoot a quick look that I try to ignore.

Some minutes later we’re back at the hotel getting into the car. It’s apparent she has a destination in mind but she won’t tell me. We drive through the rather quiet streets before she pulls into a parking lot. She hops out as soon as she can, waiting for me on the sidewalk.

It takes a while for me to join her. There are people everywhere and my mood hasn’t adjusted much from the shop.

“Come on! Come on,” she urges as I get out of the car. Between the people and buildings I see water glinting, and open green spaces.

“Where are we?”

“The Old Mill District. I think this is right up your hipster avenue.”

Her attempt at humor does bring a faint smile to my lips. Locking the car, she turns and wades among the people and buildings, expecting me to follow. Catching up to her, I entwine my hand with hers. Flashing a smile over her shoulder, she pulls me onward.

Minutes later we’re walking a bridge across the river. Halfway over she stops and leans against the railing. Few people are on the bridge and I’m able to push aside the low din of the distant crowd. Joining her at the railing I peer into the water below.

“You were reminded of her, weren’t you?”

Startled, I turn and look at her. She’s looking intently at the water. “Who?”

“Kate.”

Swallowing a lump that suddenly formed, I turn back to the river. “Yeah.” I say the word after a long silence.

“Sorry…that sucks.”

My head nods but I’m focusing more on the river right now. I want the peace of its flow to reflect in my mind, to not give in to the thoughts swirling there.

We stand there a long time, just watching the water. Her arm goes around my waist, pulling us tight. Taking a chance, I lean my head against her shoulder.

“It’s ok to miss her,” she whispers as we watch some ducks swim by. “You need to let yourself feel, not keep it trapped inside you.”

Occasionally a fish taps the surface, eating some bug or other thing we can’t see. “When I lost dad and you, people kept telling me how I should feel, how I should be.” Her words dance along the light breeze. “That pushed me in the wrong direction. No one tried to understand how I was feeling, what I was feeling. It was like they didn’t care that I was feeling.”

She turns and looks at me then, a sad smile in her eyes. “It’s ok to have those feelings and to show them.” She bonks my head lightly with hers, then returns to watching the river life. Her arm is still around my waist, giving me stability.

Her words swirl in my mind and for once I don’t use them to beat myself down. She’s trying to help me, she wants to help me. “Thank you,” I whisper.

“Any time Maxie.”

After a long time, she turns and tugs me, signaling her desire to move on. Instead of going back to the shops, she completes the crossing and heads onto one of the trails.

I had managed to get my mind back onto the here and now while I watched the river. As I catch up to her I ask, “You’ve been doing this for months now?”

“Doing what?”

“Running from place to place.”

“Since Christmas. We’ve been all over Oregon. Trying to stay hidden and away from them.”

The path wends among grasses and native plants. An urge to stop and study them thrums inside me but I push it aside. “What would you be doing if we weren’t on the run?”

The question causes her to stop and look at me. She gives me a wry grin and says, “Maybe having some wild monkey sex.”

Oh. Oh! I’m suddenly really hot and uncomfortable. Looking away from her, I pull on my collar and jostle the shirt, trying to get some cool air. She chuckles as I do this.

“Seriously, I don’t know. Before this Max was in school and I was…I was surviving.”

Surviving. That’s all I was doing the last few months also. She’s walking again and I hurry to catch up. “What did you and Max do together? You were always on the go, moving from town to town. That had to get tiresome.”

“Yeah, it did. There were some towns where we stayed longer and I found odd jobs to do. She’d often wander around town taking pictures. A few of them she was able to sell, which was hella cool! Mostly though…”

She pauses both in speech and walking. We’re in a shady area near the river. A patch of sunlight falls on her just right. In that moment I push aside the dark thoughts that rule me and just look at her.

She’s been a friend unlike any other. Always ready to help me. Always looking beyond the shyness and awkwardness I shroud myself with. Always there, even when I’m not. Shaking my head as those dark thoughts try to crowd in, I step up to her and take her hand.

My touch startles her from whatever thoughts occupied her mind. “Mostly?”

Now she doesn’t want to look at me. “Mostly…mostly we’d spend as much time together as we could. Being on the go all the time sounds fun until you’re actually doing it. After the fifth or sixth town we visited…they’re all the same. I wanted to spend as much time with her as I could.”

My heart catches what she doesn’t say. She wanted to spend as much time with her Max as she could before I came.

A bleak smile is plastered on her face when she looks at me again. “For years I wanted to leave that shithole of a town. Now? I don’t want to go back, but I do miss Joyce. I miss having more than a week to do something. Life on the run is…pointless.”

Shaking her head, she smiles for real and sets off down the path, me in tow. Her answers aren’t what I expected.

**_She’s not as vibrant since she began taking her medicine._ **

Max’s voice catches me unawares. I’m still not used to her in my head and she hasn’t spoken today.

What do you mean?

**_She’s more…focused and less…passionate about everything. The medicine also makes her more irritable. It’s a weird tradeoff._ **

That is a weird tradeoff. I think about their words as we wander through the different greenspaces.

We spend time along the trails, enjoying the beauty of the animal habitats. It’s mid-afternoon before we enter one of the local eateries for lunch. By then I’m a lot more relaxed than I was this morning, all thanks to Chloe.

After our meal we leave the district to run the few errands she had planned. The rest of the afternoon and evening we spend in the hotel watching movies. She doesn’t hesitate to get the premium channels so we have better movies to watch.

As I climb into bed beside her I can’t help thinking about our conversation earlier. She’s not happy. Being on the run isn’t exciting. Living out of a backpack, sticking around Oregon, isn’t the life she wants. I resolve to discover what life she does want.

Morning finds me blinking awake to a dimly lit room. Thoughts sluggishly filter through my mind. Blue eyes peer down at an angle and I stiffen before I realize it’s Chloe looking at me.

“Ugh.” My morning brain isn’t engaging yet.

“Wakey-wakey.”

“Why are you so cheerful?”

“Because, Maximus, you slept through the entire night without a nightmare.”

My hands stop rubbing my eyes as her words make sense. Pushing myself upright, I look around. Chloe’s beside me, propped on an elbow. Backpacks are on the other bed. Towels are on the floor by the restroom door. Everything looks right, but I’m nervous. My mind has played too many tricks on me.

Picking up my phone, I unlock it and go to a web browser. They say you can’t read in a dream. The text on the last website loads and I’m able to read it. Setting my phone down, I look down at her.

She’s got her “what are you doing?” face on. Turning to sit cross-legged facing her, I say, “My nightmares aren’t consistent. The first morning after they stop is hard. I don’t know if I’m in a nightmare or reality.”

As I speak, she moves to sit like me. When I stop, she sits a long time just looking at her hands in her lap. “After my dad…and then you…I had nightmares also.” My heart lurches at her words. “When they started going away…I remember the first morning I didn’t have one. I awoke in a panic, scared of everything. I kept expecting reality to shift into the nightmare.”

Raising her head, she gives me a smile. “Shit sucks.” Her hand shifts to touch my arm. “You don’t have to go through it alone.”

My head turns away as pain knots my heart. I can hear the words she didn’t speak, won’t speak, “like I did.” Squishing my eyes tightly shut to ward off the tears, I focus myself on breathing. In and out, spine lifting, chest moving. Arm burning where she touches it still. Why does she touch me?

_Because she knows it hurts you. You deserve that pain._

Those words do cause a tear to escape my control. A finger lightly brushes my cheek and I jerk away. No! I’m not ready for this! She’s not ready for this!

My body trembles from restraint as I make myself stay on the bed and let her touch me. There’s a terrible sorrow tearing me apart inside and it’s all I can do to hold the pieces together.

Nodding my head without knowing why, I swipe at my eyes. Tears are smeared across my face as I do. “What are the plans for today?” God my voice sounds so horrible!

“Everything should be open today. I’m hoping to find a place for good music we can hit up tonight or later this week.”

“Sounds good.” Lame. Max get it together! The bed jostles as she moves off it.

“Shower first. Then breakfast.”

By mutual agreement we find a diner to eat at. The cup of coffee in my hands is so good I want to slip into it. I hope to never have that hotel coffee again. Taking a sip I decide to figure out what Chloe wants.

“If we weren’t on the go all the time, Chloe. What would you want to do?”

“Seriously? I’d first want a nice long medication period on the beach.”

“And then?”

She pauses, brow furrowed. Her hands twirl the coffee mug in her hands, spinning it around and around. “Max and I…” Her eyes shoot towards me and her mouth narrows.

My hands tighten on my mug as I look down and say, “You and she…?”

“Before all…this happened, we talked about her going to school after Blackwell. I still wanted to leave town and she…wanted me to come with her.”

The coffee loses some of its flavor as it washes over my tongue. I can’t tell if she’s uncomfortable with this topic or something else. “And after you left…did you talk about the future?”

“No! We didn’t have time-” She cuts herself off and focuses all her attention on her mug. It looks like she’s doing breathing exercises like mine. My hand reaches across the table to rest on hers. She startles at the touch, almost withdrawing her hand. After a second or two, she turns her hand over and holds mine.

“Sorry,” she mumbles.

“You were getting upset…or frustrated?” I keep my voice steady and neutral. I want her, no I need her, to talk to me.

**_Like you should be talking to her._ **

Her head nods in response.

“I want to understand what was causing that. Help me understand, please?”

Loosing a deep breath, her hand squeezes mine. “I’m frustrated and mad about losing her. I’m also mad about having to leave town so early. We had plans! She was…she was helping me! It was going to work!”

It takes everything I have to not let any of the pain those words cause show in my face, or my voice. But wow do they hurt! It makes the sorrow I felt this morning seem like a sunny day in comparison.

“We can…we can make this work. I know we can.”

“But you can’t bring her back, can you?”

I flinch at her words. Her own face collapses as she realizes what she just said. And that’s when our food arrives. Plates are placed in front of us and when the server leaves, she’s returned to stony faced Chloe.

Our hands are no longer together. She moved hers while the plates were being set. The eggs and bacon in front of me are no longer appetizing. Chloe has no problems diving into her food, while I pick at mine.

It’s all coming apart. I’m coming apart. With great effort I push those thoughts aside and force myself to eat a slice of bacon.

Today is my third day here and I’m sadder than before. Worse, I’ve made her sad. Everything is tasteless. Setting down my fork I resolve to try again.

“No, Chloe I can’t bring her back.” My eyes are focused on my plate. The eggs are strewn all over it.

“That-I shouldn’t have said that. I know I said it before, but this time travel shit is weird. I didn’t mean to hurt you. I’m sorry, Max.”

My head nods but my heart still feels the pain. “How can…how can I help you, Chloe?” My eyes are focused on her now, waiting, hoping she’ll give me something.

Finishing what’s in her mouth, she downs a gulp of water and sets down her utensils. “It’s gonna take time,” she finally says. “I can’t…I can’t just go from her to you.”

I wince at her words. “That’s not what I mean. Tell me how she was helping you. Tell me how to help you. Please.”

She reaches her hand across the table and rests her fingers on mine. They lightly stroke them. “You are amazing,” she whispers.

_Amazing at fucking things up!_

I turn my head away, eyes downcast. When I look up again, she’s smiling in that way that captures my heart.

“Believe it or not, getting me to talk about what was going on in my head was a big way she helped. When I’d get frustrated or mad, she wouldn’t go away or tell me everything was alright. She’d do what you just did, ask me to tell her why I was mad.”

The pain I felt just moments ago fades as her words settle in. A slight smile plays at the edges of my mouth, not ready to take hold.

“Now, come on and eat,” she says. “Let’s have some fun today!”

Picking up my fork, I force myself to start eating the eggs.

After breakfast we get back in the car and Chloe drives south. Within minutes I see the smokestacks of the Old Mill District. “What are we doing back here?”

“You’ll see,” she says with a mischievous grin. Parking the car we get out. She’s full of energy and swagger as we make our way through the people already crowding the walkways. She stops in front of a small shop, gives me a nervous grin, and enters.

Stepping into the shop after her, I freeze. All around me are photos. People, landscapes, animals, and more adorn the walls. Each of them a simple black and white picture with minimalist framing. Words and thoughts flee my mind as I stand there.

Chloe brought me here. She brought me to an art museum. The sensation of falling sweeps through me and I’m in Chloe’s arms. Her eyes look down at me.

“Hell, Max, if I knew you’d get all weak in the knees over some pictures I’d have done this a long time ago.” Concern, teasing, and something else weave together in her voice. Her arms are around me and I realize I really did fall. She’s holding me up.

“Thank you,” I say as she helps me straighten up. I don’t want to tell her what this reminds me of. Thankfully these pictures lack his power, dulling the fear and pain they cause. She did something for me, even though I don’t deserve it. Giving her a brave smile, I turn and try to lose myself in the pictures.

We spend the rest of the morning in the art gallery, browsing the photos. A mixture of fear, disgust, and something more positive churns within me. My hand holds tight on hers the entire time. If she’s bored being in here with all this art, or suspects something in my behavior, she doesn’t show it.

Lunch finds us at another eatery in the district, hamburgers for both of us. My appetite recovered from this morning and as I eat I try to think of what I can do for Chloe. Taking me to that gallery showed she’s trying to make things better for me. Trying harder than I am.

Max? What’s something I can do for Chloe?

Silence. My heart sinks a little as I take another bite. That probably was a stretch.

**_She’s been talking about more body jewelry. She secretly still likes pirate themed things._ **

Her suggestions so surprise me I choke a little. Coughing into my sleeve, I swallow and take a drink.

Thank you!

Body jewelry and pirate themed things. I don’t know what I can do with that, but I’ll figure something out. We finish lunch and wander back outside.

“So…back to town, or stick around here for a while?”

I look around. There are a number of small local shops, as well as national chains. “Let’s look around here for a while.”

She nods and we head toward the shops. My stomach is twisting itself already. Getting Chloe jewelry just doesn’t seem as good as her taking me to an art gallery. I try to practice my breathing as we enter the shops.

We go through several shops during the afternoon. There are a few showcasing local artisans, whose crafts are really good. Nothing fits the description though.

As the afternoon winds down, I can tell Chloe is bored. Truthfully, so am I. You can only do so much shopping in a day and neither of us really like shopping in the first place. There are several shops left but my feet really want to leave.

Standing outside the last shop we browsed, I scan the remaining ones. Immediately one grabs my attention. The sign is hand made and is quite artistic. It calls itself Body Language. What I can see in the window suggest it’s just the shop we need.

“Come on, Chloe,” I say as I walk toward the shop. “Just one more.”

She doesn’t say anything as she follows behind. The way my arm slackens as we near tells me she figured out where we’re going. Soon she’s beside me and we enter together.

The shop has Chloe written all over it. Street art festoons the walls. Jewelry is on display in non-traditional ways. What sounds like punk music plays over the speakers. She’s immediately drawn to the clothing, and begins browsing the shelves.

I make my way to the jewelry. Pirate themed is all I know. What kind of body jewelry would she like? What kind of body jewelry would I like on her? Where do I even start?

While I’m perusing all the choices, a voice asks, “hey, can I help you with something?”

Startled, I look up to find a woman leaning against the counter. “Y-yes.”

She straightens up and I see a small silver ring in her nose. Would Chloe look good with a nose ring?

Quietly I explain what I’m looking for. She glances at Chloe, then me. Her fingers tap a couple of times before she asks, “what kind of body jewelry does she already have?”

Uh. I don’t actually know that!

**_She doesn’t have any yet._ **

Immense relief rolls through me at Max’s words.

“Just earrings and a necklace.”

The woman looks at me, her fingers still tapping. I can’t meet her gaze long and look down. A few tattoos peak from her sleeves. Her fingers stop tapping and beckon me to one end of the counter. She kneels behind the counter for a few moments. When she stands up, she has several trays in her hands.

She points out the nose rings, belly rings, and of course earrings. There are a number of pirate themed ones in the mix. After several minutes looking, with input from my inner Max, I make my selection. Putting the trays away, she rings up my selection.

Fishing my wallet out, I find only a credit card in there, which I hand over. She slides it through the machine and hands it back. While I put it away she puts the jewelry in a box, and then into a bag. I sign the receipt, she hands me the bag and I step away.

“What did you find?”

A small shriek is forced from me at Chloe’s words. Turning, I smack her lightly on the shoulder. “Don’t go sneaking up on me like that! And…you’ll have to wait to see.”

Grinning, she steps past me and puts a shirt on the counter. Once she pays, we leave the shop, each with a bag. I’m still worried that my gift won’t be good enough.

We spend the rest of the day on the other side of the river, wandering the trails. Dinner is back at the hotel restaurant. I’m so nervous I barely notice that their dinner is much better than their breakfast. As we near the end of the meal, I decide to give Chloe her gift.

Reaching into the bag, I pull out the box and give it to her. Her eyebrows go up as it dawns on her what I’m doing. “Why’d you get something for me? You didn’t need to.”

A half-grin, half-wince holds my face and I can’t look at her. “I-I’m sorry, Chloe. I know it’s not as good as the gallery…but I wanted to get you something.”

She opens the box while I stammer out my excuse. A soft whistle interrupts my words. She’s holding the jewelry in her hands and looking closely at them. “Did you…did you get me a nose ring and a belly ring?”

My eyes look away and my hands clasp between my knees. They’re lame, I know, but still I nod.

“That’s hella cool, Max! How did you know I wanted body jewelry?”

“You…you like them?” I’m looking at her now.

“Like them? I love them! How did you know?”

I look away again. I can’t tell her about Max. I can’t. She’ll hate me.

“I…I guessed?”

“Wait…did you ask me, then rewind so I forgot you asked and then bought them for me?”

That…would have been a great way to buy something for her! But I don’t want to do that with Chloe. Honesty and respect is what I want between us.

_And yet you hide her girlfriend from her!_

“No, I wouldn’t do that with you, Chloe.”

“Well, that doesn’t matter. What matters is these are so awesome!”

So much enthusiasm in her words! It warms me a little to know I brought that to her. “So…you like them?”

She puts the jewelry down and looks at me. “Why are you doubting yourself? Yes, I like them. I’ve wanted something like this for a long time.”

A weak smile crosses my face. Her hand reaches across to touch mine. “Thank you.”

Her words strengthen my smile.

Once back in the room we cuddle together in bed, watching movies until late.

The morning finds me blinking awake with her blue eyes looking down at me. “Ugh,” I groan, “is this how you’ll wake me up everyday?”

“Only on mornings where you didn’t have nightmares.”

Her words wake me up. She’s right. That’s a second night in a row without a nightmare! Maybe this means things will start returning to normal. Maybe this means I can start…healing.

“Come on, sleepy head.” She taps me on the shoulder, “time to shower and get dressed for the day.”

We make short order of preparing for the day. Chloe mentions she wants to find a shop to, as she says it, “get my jewelry installed.” What a weird way to say it.

We’re headed across the lobby to the front door when a man’s voice stops us.

“Chloe Price and Max Caulfield.”

Seated across from registration is a well dressed man who looks vaguely familiar. A woman stands behind his seat and two men sit to either side. All three are smartly dressed in professional attire. The man in the middle rises, causing the others to do the same. Automatically I step closer to Chloe.

“Who the fuck are you?”

The man smiles in a way I immediately distrust. “Come,” he says, “the car awaits.”

Shaking my head, I say, “No. Who are you?”

His smile broadens. It reminds me of a predator about to pounce on prey. “My name is Sean. I believe you know my son, Nathan.”

Sean Prescott? What the hell! While I only think that, Chloe verbalizes it.

“Yes,” he says. It’s like he’s trying to put a light-hearted air into his voice. It sounds so creepy. “The hell it is. It’s a great morning for breakfast together. My treat.”

“And why should we want to have breakfast with you?” My hand entwines Chloe’s as I speak.

“Well, for a start, to apologize for the mess my son has made for you.”

What? Apparently my disbelief shows on my face as he nods and says, with a slight frown, “yes, Nathan was trying his best but…well I think I don’t have to tell you he needs help. Let me buy you breakfast and we can discuss that mess and how to make it better.”

I look at Chloe who shrugs and says, “free food? I’m game. My car though. I don’t take rides from strangers.”

Sean smiles again at her words and claps his hands. “Good enough,” he says. “Follow us then. We’re going to the Prescottonian!” The what? He actually has a restaurant here named after him? How pretentious can you be?

We follow him outside where he gives us the address. While he and his entourage get into a shiny white limousine, we walk deeper into the lot to our car.

“What do you think he really wants,” I ask once we’re out of earshot.

“Don’t know. Those people with him look more…professional than the ones Nathan sent after us. Those looked so generic at one point I called them rent-a-thugs.”

We get in the car and Chloe pulls up the address on her phone. After some orientation we pull out of the lot. It’s not actually far from the hotel and I question the need to drive.

Chloe shrugs at my question and says, “well, this way we have a fast getaway if we need it.”

A drive of a few minutes finds us at the Prescottonian. A modest building that looks like it used to be a house, tucked into a gentrified portion of downtown. The front is plain, but obviously well maintained. There’s no on-street parking, requiring us to pull around back.

Chloe parks our car next to the limo, which is empty. “Maybe we can get him to give us the limo,” she says as we climb out of the car.

“I’ve always wanted to ride in a limo. Wouldn’t we need a driver?”

“I would be the driver.”

“To the Prescottonian, Cher Chloe!”

“You dork! I’m pretty sure you don’t call your driver Cher.”

Our playful banter carries us to the front door. A small man waits for us, dressed in black and white. He checks our names and leads us into the restaurant.

It’s a simple building, a small foyer with a coat room at the front, and the main dining area beyond. It’s what is missing that catches my eye. No cash register, various candies for sale, local journals, or anything I’m accustomed to seeing in the restaurants I normally eat at. We are definitely in a different class of eatery.

At a table near the center of the dining area sits Sean. The lady sits to his right, and the men stand near the back of the room. The worker leads Chloe and I to the table and I thank him as he assists us into the chairs.

Before I’m aware another worker appears at my elbow, unfolds the cloth napkin and settles it on my lap. Wow!

Drink orders are taken and menus given before the serving staff disappears. Smiling his creepy smile again, Sean waves to the woman, saying, “Let me introduce my associate: Linda. She helps me a lot with running my many projects. It was she that helped make this meeting possible.”

Linda smiles at his introduction but doesn’t extend a hand. Unlike Sean, her smile seems genuine. She turns her smile on Chloe and I in turn, saying a brief greeting. There’s a slight accent to her words that I can’t place. Her straight dark hair is pulled away from her face, giving her a clear view of us.

Our drinks are set before us by staff that appear and disappear so quickly it’s like they’re magical. Chloe immediately sips her coffee while I start putting sugar into mine.

The server returns and takes our meal orders. I take my first sip of coffee. Excellent! Pretentious or not, we’ll have to return here for this.

“So, you wanna tell us how this meeting happened,” Chloe says after her first sip.

“What do you mean, Ms. Price? Are you asking why you are enjoying all that Bend has to offer, instead of the welcoming arms of Arcadia Bay?”

We both snort at his words. “Sure, why are we in Bend,” she replies.

“Ah, that…is due to Nathan not heeding my instructions very well.”

“You don’t say.” The sarcasm drips heavily from my words. Sean continues as if he didn’t hear me.

“Since you shared classes with Nathan I had asked him to help arrange a meeting. I thought a familiar face would make it easier.”

“Why do you think we’d want to meet with someone who tried to kill my friend?” His eyes narrow slightly at the heat in my words.

“And who did kill my friend!” Chloe’s words slap him and he looks down, focusing on the coffee before him.

“Isn’t it hard to arrange a meeting while in jail?”

Linda looks at the two of us, then at Sean’s reddening face. It’s way too easy to see where Nathan gets his lack of control. She leans close to Sean and whispers something that he nods to.

“Yes. Nathan was in jail. He is out on bail, Ms. Caulfield,” Linda says. Her large, dark eyes are focused on me. Their size seems unnatural they are so big. “Looking back it was not the best decision, precisely for the reasons you already mentioned.”

Sean interrupts at this point, his voice rough, “I am sorry about your friend, Rachel, Ms. Price. Her father and I were friends. Knowing Nathan was involved in her death pains me.”

“It is more regrettable,” Linda continues as Sean returns to his coffee, “that Nathan treated you that way after you helped him years ago.”

What? I look to Chloe for confirmation, but she’s too busy glaring at Sean. My hand steals across the space and squeezes hers.

“So, Nathan decided to just fuck up our lives because you wanted to meet us?”

Before Linda or Sean could answer, our food arrives. The next few minutes are spent with eating, Chloe practically inhaling hers. I pick at the so-so pancakes in front of me. I guess breakfast is not the typical fare here.

“In essence, yes,” Linda answers between bites of her omelet.

“Why not just come meet us directly?”

Linda’s eyes fix on mine. Even though her expressions are more genuine than Sean’s, looking into her eyes makes me uncomfortable. “Yes, we should have done that. Mistakes were made, and we are trying to correct them.”

“Ok, let’s cut the bullshit. What do you want?” How can Chloe already be done with her food? And she’s already eyeing mine!

Switching to the smile she’s used several times already, Linda puts down her fork and dabs her mouth with the napkin. “We’d like to offer you a job, Max.”

The fork falls from my fingers. “What? Why? Doing what?” I barely notice a new fork appear at my elbow.

Leaning forward Linda lowers her voice and says, “We are aware of your talents and want to make use of them!”

Shooting a glance at Chloe, who shifts her gaze between my pancakes and Linda, I say, “Chloe always told me my photography was good, but I never-”

“Not your photography,” Linda cuts in, “Your time management skills.”

My time manage-oh! My mouth forms the letter as I realize what she means. And there goes any possibility of denial. Well, maybe, should I rewind? This isn’t a conversation with Chloe…but do I need to deny anything?

“Doing what?” Chloe asks while I’m still debating to rewind or not.

“The same thing you did to cause your sudden wealth.”

Chloe makes a rude sound and says, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Really? You mean you aren’t the CEO of Pricefield Enterprises, a firm only a few months old and already worth millions?”

It’s all I can do to keep my face calm. What is she talking about? And what kind of company name is Pricefield?

“Do I fucking look like a CEO?”

“Ah, yes, our mistake. I’m talking with Chloe Price, not Lauren Jensen.” Linda’s lips have a slight upturn at the corners as she uses Chloe’s alias.

A slight shift in her seat is the only response Chloe makes. I’m now completely confused. Pricefield Enterprises? CEO? Millions?

“I wonder what the authorities would think of your little lie.”

“Do I look like I care about authority? You Prescotts are the death of Arcadia Bay. We’re not interested in your job offer.” She rises to her feet as she speaks. I hurry to stand also.

Linda focuses on me and I avoid her eyes. “Do you feel the same way, Max?”

Trusting Chloe, I look at her and say, “Let’s go.”

Grabbing my hand, she leads us out of the restaurant. Once outside she picks up the pace and we hurry into the car. “Chloe-” I begin but she cuts me off with a look as she starts the car. Shrinking into my seat I put on the seatbelt as she tears out of the parking lot.

My mind is a whirl with the new thoughts. The realization that there is still a lot going on I don’t know or understand is unsettling. So preoccupied am I with these thoughts I don’t realize where we are until Chloe stops the car.

Trees tower above us on all sides. Chloe rests her head on the steering wheel a moment before opening the door and getting out. The uncertainty of my thoughts slows me down as I follow her. The scent of pine fills my nostrils as I exit.

Wherever she took us, it’s too far to hear any cars or other people. Wind in the trees and distant bird calls are the only sounds. Glancing at her, I see she’s holding a joint already lit.

“There’s uh, some things I wasn’t really clear on,” she says as she sits on the hood. It pops a little under her as she slides back to lean against the windshield.

“No shit,” I say. My confusion is coming out as frustration and irritation. Leaning against a tree I start picking at the bark. The patterns capture my eyes, keeping my irritation at bay.

“What I told you is true, we started by playing Poker. Max called it seed capital. Once we had a few thousand dollars she figured out how to use her rewind with investments. It was really strange, and a little exciting, to see.”

“She became obsessed. It’s the only word I can think of for it. Right away she’s being all adult about our escape. Setting up trusts and fake companies to hold the money. How’d she know what to do?”

I shake my head, still focused on the bark. It’s not the money, or whatever legal stuff the other Max did that’s annoying me.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

Deciding I need to face this head-on, I turn and cross my arms. She’s looking at me while she takes another long drag and holds it. The smoke escapes in a slow pale wisp.

“It wasn’t like I was trying to hide this from you. It would’ve come up.”

“Oh? Like the other morning when I asked how we got all this money!”

“What the hell, Max! You’re ruining what I have going on here.”

Dropping my hands, I clench them and grit my teeth. She didn’t tell me, and her Max didn’t tell me. What is wrong with them?

Hands still clenched tight, I walk into the trees. What is wrong with them? What is wrong with me? The question stops me in my tracks and I slump against a tree.

What is wrong with me? Hurt, yes. But being upset because Chloe neglected to tell me something? There’s things I haven’t told her yet, that I’m scared to tell her. And she’s afraid I’m going to leave her as well.

Again I wonder at the silence in my head. Neither voice is saying anything right now. I know what I need to do though. Turning around I return to the car.

“I-I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have snapped at you.”

Looking at me, she sits up, her joint already gone. “It wasn’t entirely your fault. I…should have told you.” Her head turns away, studying the trees around us.

“It hurt so much when you came in…just like last October I didn’t want to let you in. I wanted to…deny it happened. I’m sorry.”

Picking at a nearby tree again, I consider her words. “I can’t imagine what that was like for you. It’s just…I’m already feeling bad because…gah! I don’t know how to say this without…”

Slipping off the car she says, “Just say what you’re thinking.”

“I don’t…feel connected to you like last October.”

“That makes two of us. Here. I have something that may help.” Patting me on my shoulder, she walks to the back of the car and pops the trunk. Lifting out a brown duffle, she shuts the trunk, hefts the bag over her shoulder and walks into the trees.

Curious, I follow her. We walk a few minutes until she finds a relatively clear area. Dropping the duffle to the ground, she says, “Experiments.”

“Excuse me? Experiments?”

“Yep. Let’s see what you can do, dude. Max had to use her power a lot and got really good at it. I don’t trust what Evil Daddy P said. So I think we need to see what you can do.”

“See what I can do?”

“What? Did someone replace Max with a parrot?”

“Sorry. What kind of experiments, and how will this help?”

Max’s words in her letter come back to me now. Chloe likes the experiments. Didn’t she say something about Chloe really coming alive with these?

“That remains to be seen.” Kneeling she unzips the bag and begins pulling stuff from it. Balls, frisbees, stopwatches, sticks, orange cones, and more. Grabbing an orange cone, she stands and looks at me. “This is your marker. It’s easy to see during the rewind.” She tosses it to the side where it’s plainly visible.

Kneeling again she grabs a frisbee and stands. “Let’s practice your time stopping.” She gestures for me to walk to the end of the area. As I do I think back on the conversation at the restaurant.

“Why is the company named Pricefield? Isn’t that a little obvious?”

To my surprise Chloe’s cheeks turn a bright pink. Her face turns down and she studies the frisbee in her hands. She mumbles something I can’t hear. “What was that?”

Still not looking at me, she says, louder, “It was my idea, ok?”

“Ahhhh, Chloe-”

“No mushy stuff!”

“Not even from me?” My voice comes out in a sing song that causes the corners of her lips to lift. Her cheeks are still pink as she throws the frisbee. I’m guessing I’ll get no response to that question.

As I return the frisbee I switch to another question I’ve been wondering. “How did you help Nathan?”

Catching the frisbee, she returns it with a tight spin, saying, “When I was a sophomore I stood up to a bully for him.”

My eyebrows shoot up at that. Catching the frisbee I toss it back. “Wow! Why?”

She pops the frisbee into the air with her finger, catches it, and shrugs. “I was in a good mood that day. Plus I thought it would be pretty funny, a Prescott being rescued from a bully by a girl. Nothing really came of it though.”

Spinning the disc toward me she says, “you need to stop time and catch the disc.”

“Why?”

“To build up your endurance and get better at it.”

“What do you mean, build up my endurance?”

“How long are you able to stop time?”

I return the frisbee again while I think. “Maybe five or ten minutes? Long enough for me to run up to the roof of the dorm from the courtyard.”

“After plenty of practice Max was able to hold it much longer. And do it easier.”

That seems to make sense, only it’s been months since I stopped time. I avoid thinking of that occasion. She tosses the disc to me again and I search within myself for a way to stop time.

The disc hits me before I can find it. “Stop time, not stop it with your body,” she says wryly.

Retrieving the disc from the bushes it bounced into, I throw it. “I don’t know if I can do that. I only stopped time once and that was months ago.”

Holding the disc in her hands she lowers her head and scuffs the ground. “When you…” She doesn’t complete the sentence, just looks off into the trees. I know though. When I saved Kate. Only Max didn’t in this timeline.

Something clenches inside me and for a moment I feel again the warm touch of lips on my cheek. Unbidden my hand is touching the spot. Kate would love this forest, the space we are at. Turning aside, I step behind a tree to hide myself.

The tightness inside intensifies, drawing my breath deep into me. It feels like I’m fighting gravity to breath. A hand clasps my shoulder. Chloe steps in front of me, her eyes wide. One look at me, and she pulls me into her arms.

“Shit, I’m sorry, Max.”

I just stand there, letting her hold me. My arms hang at my sides, useless. The tightness doesn’t let up. It seems like I should be crying, but nothing happens. Does Kate mean so little to me that I can no longer shed tears for her? What kind of monster am I?

Holding me at arms length, Chloe peers into my eyes. If she’s looking for life she won’t find it, only emptiness.

My eyes focus on her, the bright blue of her hair, the shimmering blue of her eyes. Down they travel focusing on her mouth, lips parted.

I never took the opportunity with Kate. It never dawned on me that I should. I feel like I’m letting opportunities with Chloe pass as well. The tightness transforms into something I don’t recognize, a kind of tentative energy.

Stepping forward, I touch her cheek, slipping my hand to the back of her head as I lean in. Our lips touch for just a moment, but it’s enough. A painful sensation passes through us and we both jerk away.

“Ouch,” we both cry and look at each other.

“Wub was wab,” Chloe says. What? I try to ask what she said, but my mouth is numb. My fingers touch my mouth. Yes, my fingers can feel it, but my lips can’t feel my fingers. Chloe starts laughing and points at me. “Ya ha is siking ub,” she says.

“Wub?”

“Ya ha! Ya ha!” Her hand goes to my head and pats my hair. There’s another discharge of what feels like static and she jerks her hand away. Now she’s waving her hand and I’m rubbing my head.

We stand there a while until the numbness goes away. “Damn,” she says as soon as her mouth works again. “What was that?”

“Static discharge?” I offer.

“Too strong, and how would you get static buildup out here?” She does have a point.

Shrugging I say, “No idea. What were you doing to my hair?”

“It was, well it still is sticking up.”

My hands go to my hair. Sure enough much of it is standing on end. “This is really weird.” I push it down, but it just pops up again. This causes Chloe to laugh. I suppose I do look funny, but I can’t see it, and it feels weird.

Turning my back I tromp back to the small area we were using. The frisbee is on the ground and I pick it up. Chloe’s right behind me. “You sure you’re ok to go on?”

Nodding I tell her, “yes. I’m fine.”

Next to my shoulder she pauses. “Max once told me it was like locating a stillness in time. She called it a moment between moments. Maybe that will help.” She touches my shoulder, then moves to the far end of the area.

Her words stick with me and I think about them as I tap the disc against my palm. I know what it feels like to use my rewind. A sensation of slipping through moments that is difficult to describe. I also know what it feels like to simply touch my ability but not use it.

Doing that now, I let my ability come to life. A sensation wraps me, like a soft blanket. Time itself wends around me, but not in any particular direction. To improve my focus I close my eyes and let the sensation seep throughout me.

The world around me fades away as I let my internal sight and consciousness explore the soft, warm sensation. The sensation is moving and among the movement I think I find what Chloe mentioned.

Opening my eyes I keep my connection and throw the disc to Chloe. “Are you ready young squire Max?” A nod is my response and she readies her arm. “Try to avoid the frisbee.”

She throws straight and true, aiming for me. Finding the moment between moments I slip into it. Around me everything goes still. The disc hangs in the air just feet away. With an effort I move to the side. It’s like walking through thick mud, gravity pulling at my limbs as I move.

Slipping from the moment I watch the disc sail by. Chloe claps and whistles. “Ok, send it back.” Retrieving the disc I throw it to her. Catching it, she kneels and slips the disc into the bag. When she stands, her hand is behind her back.

Without warning she flicks her hand forward and several balls come sailing toward me! I shriek and fall to the ground, the balls flying over and into the trees.

“Ok, now that’s something we need to work on.”

“What? Avoiding baseballs?”

“Nah. Dealing with the unexpected. Keeping your cool.”

“It’s hard to keep your cool when someone throws something at your head!”

Her body stiffens and her face goes hard. What did I say? Before I can ask, it passes and she’s loose and relaxed. “Life and people won’t give us what we expect or want. That’s why we’re practicing.”

I nod at her sage wisdom and wonder what’s prompting it. Her life hasn’t been the greatest I know, but I think this is from whatever memory I stirred with my words.

“Let’s try this again. Do you mind rewinding so I have the balls again?”

“You always have the balls, Chloe.”

“Wow Maximus.”

I can’t believe I said that. Heat rushes up my neck and face and I’m uncomfortably hot. My face is still quite warm when I finish rewinding and she has the balls behind her back.

“What?! Did you rewind? Why are you blushing?”

My face grows even hotter at her words. I nod and tell her what happened, which brings a big smile to her face. “I’m glad you’re still lobbing them back,” she says. It’s great to see her happy. Thankfully it appears my behavior has not ruined the day for her.

Taking a few moments to compose herself, Chloe squares herself and brings the baseballs to the front. “Ok, here they come. Freeze and dodge!” Like before the balls come hurtling toward me, but this time I’m ready. Again I find the moment and slip into the stillness. Stepping out of their path, I return to the normal flow and watch the balls fly into the brush.

“Great! Now get them and throw them back.”

“No rewind?”

“Nah, you gotta work for it!”

Mumbling under my breath I hunt through the undergrowth until I find the three balls and return them. My throwing is nowhere as good as hers, which means she has to hunt for them also. That gives me some pleasure. “Need to work on that aim, Max,” she calls as she searches the brush.

We do the exercise a few times, Chloe opting to have me rewind instead of throwing the return. After ten or fifteen minutes she drops two of the balls saying, “Time for something different. Let’s work with frozen objects. Instead of moving out of the way, catch the ball in the time freeze.”

Tossing the ball one handed a couple of times, she continues, “Objects in a time freeze still have their kinetic energy. When you touch a moving object in the freeze that energy is transferred to you, Max. You’ll get hurt.”

Her proper description of energy is very satisfying! It reminds me so much of the girl I knew five years ago, so enthused with science.

“Ready?”

Nodding, I prepare myself. She tosses the ball. Slipping into the stillness when the ball is halfway, I walk to it and pluck it from the air. My palm tingles as it closes on the ball. The tingling feels like I just caught the ball outside the freeze. Returning to my position, I restore the flow. Holding it up as a trophy, I grin.

“That was the easy one, Agent M! Throw it back.”

She has me practice a few more times. “We really need to improve your reflexes. When danger comes our way you need to be able to handle it.” So saying she throws the ball at me very fast. Startled, I begin to react like before, but catch myself and slip into the stillness.

Proud of myself, I walk to the ball and pluck it from the freeze. My hand jerks back in pain as the energy of the fast ball transfers. “Ow!” The surprise causes me to lose my position in the stillness and I re-enter normal time, hopping up and down with my hand between my knees.

“Ouch! That hurt!”

“Kinetic energy, sista!”

Falling down, I continue pressing my hand between my knees. After a chuckle, Chloe walks over to me. Crouching she asks, “Is your hand ok? I didn’t break it or anything did I?”

“No,” I manage to groan, “I should have paid more attention to what you told me earlier.”

Patting my shoulder she stands. “Oh shit,” explodes from her. Looking up I see a bear across from us. What? Where did that come from?

Slowly I stand, my hand still throbbing but forgotten. “It’s not alone,” Chloe says. Turning I scan the area. There’s not one, but four black bears. Where did they come from? Bears aren’t social animals, why are there four together?

“Can you rewind us out of this?”

Shooting a glance at her I see her eyes are shifting from bear to bear, trying to watch all of them. “Yes,” I say and tap my power. I rewind as far as I can, which isn’t very far. It’s just before Chloe threw the fast ball, only the ball is still with me. A pain lances my head as I try to push further, telling me I’m at my limit.

“Why do you have the ball,” Chloe asks when the rewind stops. Ignoring her, I start turning and scan the forest. There! I see it, a bear is approaching!

“Chloe! Come here,” I whisper, while I scan for the other bears. Sure enough the other three are also approaching us. Chloe walks toward me without argument. As she does I try another rewind, but it takes me back only a few seconds. Damn! We need to improve my rewind.

Summoning Chloe again, I inform her of the bears as she approaches. She freezes mid-step, halfway to me. “No,” I hiss, “keep coming.” Stepping to her, I take her hand with my uninjured one. “I can’t rewind anymore,” I whisper, “I’ve already gone back as far as I can.” Right now I can really appreciate why improving my rewind ability is a good thing.

She nods, still focused on watching all the animals. Like before, the animals come to the edge of the area and watch us. Each is just a few feet away. Bears are fast, much faster than us. This groups’ behavior is highly unusual. Getting out of here is more important than these observations.

With a roar, one of the bears leaps at us! Not knowing what else to do, I enter the stillness. I’m feeling fatigued by my constant time use this morning, but I need some space. I need some time to figure out how to get us out of this, how to keep Chloe safe.

“Holy shit!”

Chloe’s voice shocks me so much I spin away from her, dropping her hand. Immediately she freezes and I stare at her wide-eyed. What the hell?

Pushing down my shock I reach out and take her hand. The motion she was making when I let go completes and she blinks at me in surprise. Of course. Now I’m in front of her, not beside her.

“Chloe? Tell me this is real, that you’re in the stillness with me.”

“Is that what this is? It’s hella weird. How are you doing this?”

“I-I don’t know. We can figure it out later. Right now we need to get out of here before my power fails!”

“Lead on sista!”

With Chloe trailing behind me, we make our way through the sluggish stillness to the car. I’m careful to avoid the nearest bear. We creep around its raised claws. If touching Chloe brings her into the stillness with me, I don’t want to chance brushing the bear!

It’s hard work walking the few hundred feet or so to the car. It feels more like walking a mile or more uphill. The distance helps me notice something else. I’m not getting tired. Well I am from the walking, but not from keeping us in the stillness.

At the car I hold onto Chloe until she’s in the driver seat, then closing the door, I go to my side and get in. Wanting to make the most of it, I bring her back into the stillness so she can put the key in the ignition. Once that happens I return us to normal time flow.

The loud harsh sound of bear roars reaches us in the car as Chloe starts it, shifts into reverse, and quickly makes her way back. Once on the paved road we both give a little whoop to celebrate, and Chloe tears back toward town.

“That was hella cool, Super Max! My Max wasn’t able to bring me into the time freeze with her! That was so awesome!”

She continues to gush as she drives, excitedly talking about the entire experience. It brings a smile to my face, and a sense of pride inside. It’s strangely satisfying to know there’s something I can do, that her Max couldn’t. I kill that petty feeling immediately. Chloe doesn’t need that from me.

Thinking about the other Max worries me, though. She’s been silent all day, and barely spoke to me the last two days. Maybe…maybe what happened before was just a strange artifact of replacing her? It’s not like I have a lot of experience to draw on here.

“Yo! Earth to Max!”

Uh! “What? Sorry, I was thinking about what just happened.”

“And I was just talking about what just happened. I asked if you took me or anyone else into the time freeze before?”

“No. That was the first time. I didn’t even know I could!”

“I’m going to say it again: that was so awesome! We need to do it again.”

Nodding absently I say, “what do you think was wrong with those bears?”

“Not a clue. They aren’t social animals. Maybe they were sick.”

“I don’t think so. Did you see how they walked? It was like…like they came specifically for us? They walked up close, waited, and then attacked. That doesn’t match any description of a brown or black bear.”

“Or any other, I agree. I’m so glad your time power was able to save us! We have to try other things!”

I shake my head. “I don’t know. We barely made it out of there. What if I hadn’t been able to bring you with me? You would have died!”

"But I didn’t and what you did was so awesome! Now. Let’s get us some lunch.”

“I think we should tell someone about those bears. If they find someone else…”

Chloe makes a rude noise, and slaps the steering wheel. “Ok. Scout Master Max, find us someone to tell.”

I think about that a few moments before saying, “We were on Forest Service land, so let’s go to the nearest ranger station.”

“After lunch.”

Opening my mouth to counter that, my stomach interrupts us with a loud rumble. Oh! I didn’t eat all my breakfast and I’m pretty hungry. “Ok. I could nosh as well. Lunch, then Ranger Station.”

Lunch happens to be a drive through and eating at a park. While we eat I look up the local forest service office on my phone. They might not be the right group, but I’m sure they can pass the word along.

After lunch we find ourselves at the Forest Service office. It takes a while for the right person to be located. The person, an older lady, takes our report very seriously. She even pulls us to a large 3D relief map of the area to pinpoint where we encountered the bears.

Chloe is fascinated by the map, pouring over the key and running her hands along the contours. The ranger is very alarmed by our description and thanks us profusely for the report.

“That is the hottest map I’ve ever seen,” Chloe says as we walk toward her car. Her words pull a smile onto my face. Seeing it, she nudges me a little.

“Whatcha thinking, Super Max?”

Her words, so cheerful and innocent, stop me in my tracks. Coldness washes over me, making my hair stand on end.

“No,” my voice is a whisper, tightly uttered. Distant wind and crashing surf fill my mind. My hair is drifting lazily on the breeze.

Chloe, head cocked, looks at me.

“You’re the Time Lord! You can do anything.”

My head is shaking to and fro as I deny what I’m hearing, what I’m seeing.

“No!” My voice crashes against the reality around me.

Fingers grip my shoulders and pain shoots through me. I stagger and suddenly I’m in a parking lot, Chloe’s fingers clutching my shoulders. My hand reaches up on its own, creeping toward her face turned by a frown. Skin, warmed by life, greet my fingertips and I sag against her.

“What? What happened? Do you…do you need a doctor?” There’s that concern and worry again, which I put in her.Shaking my head I push myself up. I don’t want her worrying about me. I’m not worth it.

“No,” I say, my voice weak, “just…just a memory from another time.”

Her eyes search mine, and I’m sure she doesn’t believe me. She doesn’t press me though. She brushes something off me then, taking my arm, we walk to the car.

“Well, we still have some hours in the day, let’s check out some of those places we want to see.”

Another thing I’m not telling her. Another way I’m not letting her in.

She drives from the parking lot and takes us back into town. We spend the afternoon visiting some of the unique places in Bend. The last Blockbuster in existence is here and we go there first. The oddity and nostalgia don’t hold much for us though, so we’re soon out of there and exploring different shops.

Chloe is intent on figuring out how to get some beer or other alcohol from one of the local places. I’m amused by her attempts that go awry. All in all it’s a great day. We goof around and trade playful jabs and insults. Happiness lights both of our eyes, though I feel darkness eating away at the edge of mine.

Near the end of the day we’re in one of the parks again, positioned where we can see the sun angling toward the horizon. I’m looking at her, the sun hitting her just right, the light breeze playing with her bangs.

“You’re doing it,” she whispers.

Startled, I say, “doing what?”

“Taking a picture.”

My heart lights up as a smile crosses my face at her words. “Yes. I suppose I am.”

Her hands come up as she says, “take a real one. Please?”

In her hands rests my camera, the one she gave me. How did she get it out of my bag without me seeing?

The hesitation and darkness weighs my limbs and I shake my head. I’m hyper focused on the camera, the way her fingers hold it with grace. “No.” The word is a croak as my mouth and throat are suddenly dry.

“You can do this, Max.” Her words are both gentle and firm. Her grip is as well as she places my hands on the camera. I close my eyes, Jefferson already leering into my vision.

“I can’t.” I’m choking now, something trying to push its way up my throat and I need to keep it down.

“You can. I’m right here with you. Let me help you.”

My breath stops. Chloe is so close to me I can feel her breath, hear it as it goes in and out. It takes all my effort, but I manage to choke out another word, barely audible through all my shaking. “Why?”

He’s looming over me, going on about innocence, and models, and what he wants. His anger boils over me, searing me as I twitch.

“I told you I’m not letting that fucker take this away from you. He doesn’t deserve to keep something you love. Let me help you recover it.”

Her words stir something in me and I force open my eyes. Her blue eyes blaze through the shadow cast by Jefferson and I focus on them.

“I miss you taking pictures.”

What? “H-how can you miss them, it’s been only four days.” It takes everything I have to force that out. Sweat trickles down my face from my exertion.

“Seriously? It was how you connected with the world around you. You would take several pictures a day! When you’d see something that caught your photogs eye, you…you became alive in a way that was beautiful. You couldn’t wait to show me what you saw, and tell me what it meant. To go from that to nothing? That’s noticeable.”

My head lowers while she speaks and I focus on our hands. Jefferson is still speaking to me, but he’s drowned out by Chloe. My fingers are white knuckled and jittery on the camera. Hers are gentle and stable. I never knew Chloe cared so much about my photography.

“Ok.” My single word is barely heard, but the change in her is instant. She kisses the top of my head and quickly steps away.

“That’s it, Maximus! Take a picture of this!”

In front of me she is striking such a goofy, typical Chloe pose that it pushes the rest of Jefferson from my mind.

“Oh my god, Chloe! Are you cereal?”

“Hey! If it gets a sista to take a picta it’s worth it!”

Groaning at her awful rhyme, I laugh and raise the camera to my eye. It takes but a moment to frame her just right and snap the picture.

The world goes dark, illuminated only by the glow of the reflective umbrellas. I feel his hands on me and I squirm, trying to wriggle free! His smile and voice disturb me on a deep level and I want to get away. I have to get away! I try and try but something restrains me.

“Max!”

Snapping to reality I find myself on the ground, Chloe holding me to her. “Don’t give up,” she’s whispering, “It’s not real. It may feel real, but it’s not real. I’m real, Max.”

Seeing my open eyes, a shudder passes through her and she pulls me tight against her. She helps me to sit up, leaning me against her.

“Where…is the camera ok?”

She chuckles at my question and hands me something. The picture I took. I trace her goofy pose, thinking about how she’s trying to help me the best she can. I wonder if I’ll ever be free of him.

As if she heard my thought, she says, “If your first question is about how the camera is, I think you are improving. The camera’s fine.”

My hand slips into hers, holding it to me. Four days. I’ve been here four days. Am I better? Is my life better, like … Kate wanted?

We sit there, the evening fading into night around us. Chloe keeps me close. I keep my thoughts closer. I want to believe this is better, but last October I was the one there for Chloe. The Max I replaced was there for Chloe. Now I’m the one that needs help. Who’s helping Chloe?


	7. Dreams

A gentle nudge from her rouses me from my introspection. Without a word we stand and she places the camera and picture into my bag. Leading me to the car, she flashes me a quick smile before we get in.

Dinner is at a chain restaurant and she engages me in typical Chloe wit. My mood lightens, but my thoughts stay centered on that question, how am I helping Chloe?

The answer she gave me yesterday morning just aren’t sitting well with me. It seems…inadequate.

_Just like you._

Yes. Just like me.

After dinner we’re back in our hotel room where we fall asleep watching a movie.

* * *

My eyes open to a familiar scene, Max sitting across from me in my Blackwell dorm room. Her face is scrunched up in a way I don’t recognize.

“Hey,” I say. No response. Rising I cross and seat myself next to her. She scoots away.

A frown creases my face as I study her behavior. Where do I stand with her? What am I supposed to do?

“Do you know hard it is to be so close to the person you love and not be able to touch her…to talk to her…to kiss her?” Her voice is soft, but her words cut deep.

“No, I don’t.” My heart feels like a stone in me as I consider her words.

“I’m jealous of you, Max. I so want to hurt you right now. I’ve wanted to hurt you ever since we switched…but…”

“But…hurting me means hurting Chloe.”

“Yeah.”

“So what do we do?”

“I don’t know.” She’s silent for a while and I use the opportunity to study her.Her head is in her hands, fingers clutching her hair.

“Thank you,” I finally say. She stirs and looks at me.

“For what?”

“For helping me buy that gift for Chloe.”

She snorts and looks away. “I only helped you because of her. I wanted to see her happy. She’s been so unhappy since we switched.”

I look away. She’s right.

“And now you’re beating yourself up over that, aren’t you?”

All I can do is nod in agreement.

She sighs and goes back to whatever she was thinking.

“More than once these past few days I thought it would be easier if I could just die. That way I wouldn’t be in your way anymore.”

My hand reaches over and takes hers. She flinches but doesn’t take her hand away. “I know what that feels like…wanting to die.”

A shudder passes through her. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be. What do we do?”

“I wish there was a way we could become one…like merge somehow.”

I have no response to that idea. She sits, brooding. She doesn’t take her hand away from me. That’s a plus, I guess.

“How do you and I move forward?”

“I don’t know. Don’t worry about it though. It’s not your problem.”

“Are you serious? This very much is my problem,” the words are just shooting out of me with little thought. Her disregard for this problem cuts something deep within me. “You’re me! I’m you! We are in this together. You aren’t wrong to feel hurt. But, we need to stop thinking of you and I, Max and Max, and start thinking of us!”

“I doubt it works that way. We’re a paradox. Two consciouses existing in the same place at the same time. And as long as I’m in here…”

Her mood quickly changes as she shakes herself and stands up. I rise also, uncertain of this sudden change.

“Enough of that! You need to know why we left Arcadia Bay.” She touches my shoulder. “I’m going to show you.” She pushes me toward the door. “Just step through…”

She opens the door and I pass into sunshine and chaos.

“Damn bitch!” A man lies on the ground in the churned up snow. He struggles to rise, snow and mud clinging to his jacket and jeans. Blood streams from a cut below the eye, smeared across his cheek. Another guy, much larger, has Chloe in some kind of hold. My heart beats wildly as adrenaline kicks in.

“We don’t need this one,” the bigger guy snarls. He shoves Chloe forward as the guy on the ground draws a gun and shoots her. Her body jerks as the bullet impacts. No!

Time rewinds to just before the gun is fired. Time stands still.

Panic sets in as I see Chloe frozen in mid-fall. As if someone else controls my body, I walk through the sluggish stillness to the man with the gun. My fingers pry unsuccessfully at his to remove them from the gun. I rewind further. My face is wet. Touching it, my fingers come away red. The world around me jumps and starts, like a broken film.

The gun is now in the holster. Time freezes again. Still not in control, my hands reach out and take the gun. Something burns in the core of me, both hot and cold, as I point the gun at the man’s leg and fire. The sound is really weird, like a distant sonic boom. The bullet freezes in flight just a few inches from the barrel.

I walk to the other guy. My head is pounding and my control is starting to slip. I do the same with this man, firing at his leg.

Time resumes. Chloe is shoved. The gunshots echo weirdly in the air. Both men cry out as the bullets hit them. I’m weakening, but I still freeze time again. The other man has a gun, which I relieve him of. Now my control is completely gone. Time resumes.

Chloe cries out as she sprawls on the ground. Blackness looms at the edges of my vision. Liquid trickles from my nose. My legs are weak and shaky. I can’t collapse now! We aren’t safe!

“Chloe,” I cry. She climbs to her feet, shaken and wet from the tumble. One look at me and the men and her gaze hardens. “Let’s get out of here!”

She carries me to her truck and pushes me in. Jumping into the driver’s seat, she starts the truck. The world goes dark.

When I come to, Chloe is holding me. My head is pounding, making me wince as I sit up. I can just make out the hazy images of the junkyard.

“Ugh, how long was I out?”

“About an hour.”

“Are you ok?”

“Yeah. Max…What was that all about?”

“I was going to ask the same.”

“They were in the courtyard waiting for me. They came up to me and asked where you were. I told them to shove off. One swung at me, so I slashed him with my keys. Next thing I know they’re both screaming and you’re there, face covered in blood.”

“They shot you.” My voice is hollow, distant. “The big one said they didn’t need you…maybe he saw me come out of the dorm. I don’t know. He shot you and…I…I rewound time, took their guns, and shot them.”

“Wow, Max. That’s fuckin’ amazeballs.” The awe in her voice matches her words.

“I don’t feel amazeballs. I feel…sick. I shot people. I froze time and shot them. They were defenseless against me.”

Her arms tighten on me as she says, “If you hadn’t, I’d be dead and who knows what they’d be doing with you.”

I know she’s trying to comfort me, but my mind is too distant to respond to it. My breathing becomes rapid and shallow and I find it hard to sit up.

“Max?” Chloe’s sounds worried. “You’re-you’re cold!”

“Oh shit! Oh shit!” She lowers me to my back and I hear frantic movement. Something warm settles over me. My feet are propped up. The incident at the dorm has captured my mind. Over and over I see myself holding the gun to the thug, pulling the trigger. The bullet hits his leg. The bullet hits Chloe’s body. My finger is squeezing…squeezing the trigger.

All is blackness.

I’m moving. There’s a low hum, a swoosh, and the faint sound of music. Grocery bags are in our hands. Chloe is saying something about dinner. We approach her truck.

Leaning against it is a familiar man wearing a muddy coat. One hand is in his coat, the other is tapping on Chloe’s truck. A bandaid under his eye completes his look.

Another man, larger and also familiar, leans against a car a few feet away. Regular blue jeans, coats stained and worn, and short dark hair completes their appearance. I spy two other men near by, all dressed and looking the same. All of them are watching us and the store. We stop some ten feet away.

The one leaning against Chloe’s truck says, “The birdies have come back to play.”

“Damn bitches!” It’s the larger man. These two are the ones from the dorm. The ones Chloe scratched. The ones I shot. The smaller one keeps his eyes on me the entire time.

“Just come with us. All Nathan wants is a little conversation. Then you can go back to your own business.”

“What if we don’t want to talk to the douchebag,” Chloe calls.

“Then you’ll find we have many ways of persuasion.”

“Why does he want to talk to us?” Now both men are looking at me. I see the other two begin walking toward us.

“Oh, little girl, he only wants to talk with you.” He stands up now, pulling his hand from his coat. It’s holding a gun, positioned in a way that only we can see it.

“I hate little birdies that think they can fly away.” The bigger man is walking toward us. He has a noticeable limp.

“He can come here and talk,” Chloe says.

The first man nods and suddenly there are two other man behind Chloe and I. Before either of us can do a single thing there’s a loud sound and Chloe collapses. I see blood spray out from her head as she falls into the slushy mess of the parking lot.

Time freezes. My heart is hammering in my chest as I see Chloe on the ground. Don’t look at her head! Don’t look at her head! I look at her head. Her beautiful face marred by a jagged hole.

NO! NO! NO! NO! It’s a while before I realize I’m repeating that word aloud in the stillness of the time freeze. Something deep inside me breaks as I see Chloe lying on the ground, broken.

Rewind. Rewind. Rewind. Freeze.

Chloe is just exiting the store. I look around, counting off the men. One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Stepping up to the speaker I reach into his jacket and pull at the gun. Prying his fingers is like trying to pry a metal latch rusted shut. I keep at it until the gun is free and resting in my hands.

My actions are cold and deliberate as I hold the gun close to his head. I pull the trigger and watch the bullet freeze just in front of his head. My legs feel heavy, matching the weight I feel inside, as I walk to each man. Each man gets a bullet frozen a hairs-breadth away from his head.

These men were willing to kill Chloe. These men deserve to die. Those phrases keep repeating in my head.

Standing near the grocery bags I was carrying, I glare at each of the men. Holding the barrel with one sleeve, I use the other to wipe down the grip, trigger, guard, anything I might have touched. Still holding it with my sleeve, I return it to the man’s hand.

Grabbing my grocery bags, I walk to Chloe’s side. Once there I let time resume. Six simultaneous gunshots ring out. Six men fall to the ground. A grim smile captures my face. Chloe stops. “Come on,” I growl. When she doesn’t move, I go to her side and nudge her. “Move! Now, Chloe!”

She looks at me and then steps away from me. There is something in her eyes. Fear. “What the fuck?”

With a gasp I’m back in the dorm room. All I hear is the hammering of my heart and my mind is gripped by the cold certainty that those men deserved to die. Max sits on the couch head in her hands.

What just happened? Were these her memories from the two days that caused us to leave Arcadia bay? How was I able to be in them?

“Do you know why I don’t want to talk about those things? Why Chloe doesn’t want to talk about it?” Max’s voice is hard. I detect the self-hate we have in common.

She looks at me. Her eyes are…vacant, haunted. “When they killed Chloe, twice…I snapped. I - I killed them! I WANTED to kill them! I wanted them dead! I was…am happy that I did it!”

Her hands are clenched into fists as she speaks, shaking.

“Do you understand what that means? I hate guns. I hate to look at them, and I certainly hate to touch them. But I didn’t care! I threw away that part of me to save her!” A cold light is in her eyes at these words, a light that burns into my mind.

“What you didn’t see is how many times I had to…rewind to get it right. How many times I watched her die. How many times I did something wrong until I got it right.

“It broke me.” Those last words are barely heard, a soft whisper lighting on the air.

Sitting next to her, I put my arms around her. That fear and panic and certainty have drained away from me. In its place is something else, something I don’t understand.

“Chloe freaked! She was scared after that. Because of the rewinds…she didn’t know what was happening.

“Even after I explained everything to Chloe, she was still scared. Scared of me. Of what I did. Of who I am now. Murderer. Killer. Monster.

“Each time she looked at me…all she saw was a monster.”

She falls silent for a long time. I continue to hold her while I think about what she’s saying. She sacrificed a core part of herself to keep Chloe safe.

When she speaks again, it’s still in that low tone, hard to hear. “I’m scared of me. She’s happy I saved her. We don’t…didn’t really talk about that day afterward.”

“Did you ever talk about how it made you feel?” I keep my voice calm, soft.

Her head shakes. “Chloe’s tough…tougher than me in most ways. A legit badass. I think this is a line she wouldn’t cross…and I did.”

My mind returns to a beachside parking lot. Chloe, holding a freshly used gun, staring at a dead Frank, a dead Pompidou. She didn’t ask me to rewind that one away. I did because…well because I thought that was a line I couldn’t cross. A line I didn’t want her to cross. Looking atanother me, am I so certain I wouldn’t cross that line?

A junkyard. A drug dealer. Threats and a knife. Trembling hands holding a gun. Trigger pulled. It didn’t matter that the chamber was empty. I had crossed that line. I had rewritten history and the future, all to give Chloe a better life. My earlier words come back to me: “I will do anything for you, Chloe. Anything!”

“You’ve poked around in my memories,” I say, “are you able to see all of them? Including the ones I rewound?”

She nods. Well that will make this easier.

“Chloe will cross that line.” I briefly describe the event to her, ending with, “I…think…it’s not whether Chloe will cross the line that concerns you. You hate yourself for what you did…what you felt you had to do to save a person you love.

“I think…you are scared to share this part of you with her, to let her see that darkness inside of you. You hate yourself for both what you did, and what you didn’t do. And you’re scared if she sees that darkness inside of you, she’ll hate you like you hate yourself.”

“She already does.” Her body goes limp in my arms as she says this.

“No, she doesn’t,” I say. “Everything she’s done since I’ve come has shown us just how much she misses you, how much she loves you. She may not understand, and yes she may be scared, but she doesn’t hate you.”

I lean in a way so I can look into her eyes. “You hate yourself for what you did. You’re scared talking about it with her will cause her to hate you. She’s not like that.”

“We really are the same person, aren’t we.”

“Yeah…we kind of are in many ways.”

We sit in silence a while, her in my arms. She’s crying. And I’m thinking about the words I just said to her. They apply to myself even more than her.

“I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

“For being a hypocrite! I was so insistent you share all those painful things with Chloe and I couldn’t do the same myself…when I had the chance.”

What do I say to that?

“Uh…apology accepted.”

“Is that all you can say?”

“We both make mistakes Max. It’s accepting that, seeking to do better and rising above those mistakes that we need to focus on.” Where do I come up with these things? Why don’t I believe them?

She doesn’t answer.

A thought occurs to me. “Are you ok with me…sharing any of this with Chloe?”

Straightening up she looks at me. Her eyes are wild, reddened and puffy. Yeah, she’s been crying. “Share what?”

“How you felt about killing them. About why you did it. About how you’re scared that she’ll hate you.”

“I-I don’t know.”

I rub her back. “Weren’t you the one who told me I needed to open up to Chloe if I wanted to heal?”

“Yes.” Her answer is so soft I barely hear it. “I should have done that when I had time. I don’t have time anymore.” Ouch.

Turning her head to give me a weak smile, she says, “You telling her isn’t the same. I’m stuck.”

“We’ll figure this out. You need to heal as well.” I keep to myself how frustrating all this is.

She looks at me in a way I can’t figure out. “I can see why you’re Max Prime,” she whispers.

“What?”

“Nothing.” She shakes her head, falling silent. She looks away. “Please don’t hate me.”

“I don’t hate you. We have plenty of our own guilt and hate. I don’t need to add to it.”

Turning back to me, her hands clutch at my hoodie suddenly. “You need to keep talking to Chloe though! I’ve seen that part of you that hates you…it scares me!”

Taken aback my words fail me. “Don’t take her silence as her going away, Max! She’s dangerous!”

My brow furrows at her words. “You talk like she’s not me…like she’s I don’t know…like you somehow?”

“I don’t know what she is, Max. She’s not like my internal voice. She…does things.”

“What? What does she do?”

The reality I’m in shatters.

I’m strapped to a chair, duct tape wrapping my wrists and ankles. A sofa is across from me. Chloe enters the scene and seats herself on the couch. “If only you were woman enough for me, Max.” Her sneer hits me straight in the heart. I know this is a nightmare, but it feels so real.

“You can’t even compete against yourself. Why do I even stay with you?”

Another person enters, Kate. Oh no! Not Kate! She seats herself next to Chloe. “Look at this beauty,” Chloe purrs as she strokes Kate’s hair. “You turned Kate Marsh gay and couldn’t even be the woman she needed.” Chloe turns Kate’s head and kisses her.

“No,” I cried, or tried to. Something is in my mouth, stopping me from speaking. It’s only a nightmare! It’s not real! I keep repeating those words, but it doesn’t stop my quickened breath. They don’t stop the feeling of something inside me withering.

“Does that hurt, Maxie?” Chloe’s voice mocks me. “When were you gonna tell me you have my girlfriend locked up in your head? Tell me how much it hurts to have the one you love ripped from you! Does it hurt so much that you’d take someone else’s love away from her?”

“That’s a good shot, take it.” Jefferson’s voice cuts over Chloe’s, joined by the sound of a flash. “Look at her cry, you do good work Ms. Price.” Another flash.

I’m struggling in my chair. My rewind isn’t working. Tears are on my face, matching the tears in my heart. I close my eyes, wanting to deny what’s happening. It’s not real! It isn’t real!

Jefferson and Chloe just laugh at me.

“I’ll title this one, Max Caulfield, Destroyer of Hearts.”

“Max!” Chloe’s calling me. My world shakes, the scene stirring and tearing. Jefferson laughs.

“Max!”

My eyes flick open. My wrists are trapped. Panic claims me and my breath comes in jerks as I struggle. No! I can’t be back there! I can’t be with HIM again!

“Max!” Chloe’s over me, worried. It’s her hands on my wrists, her hands holding me. Panic begins to subside as reality seeps in.

It’s night. We are in bed in the hotel. Chloe is holding me.

I sit up and cling to her tightly. The horrors of the nightmare fade, but the memories don’t.

_You’re doing a great job fucking up this life though!_

I flinch as her words assault me.

“It was another nightmare, Max.” Chloe’s voice is soothing, as is the hand stroking my hair. I tuck my head and snuggle against her.

My thoughts are jumbled. Fragments of the shooting, Max in my dorm, and the nightmare intermingle, whirling around. A tempest in my mind.

Do I have two Max’s in my head? What was it I saw in that nightmare back in Arcadia Bay? In the diner Max called herself “one of the Max’s left behind.” Is that what I have?

Silence greets my thoughts.

“Are you ok?”

I shake my head and turn my thoughts outward. Her heart beat is a pleasant rhythm in my ear. Her skin is warm and soft.

“Tell me what you’re thinking.”

A long sigh escapes me at her words. The same tactic I used on her. There’s so much going on in my head right now, too much and more than I want to share.

“That I’m not good enough for you.”

Her hand moves to my back, circling and rubbing to calm me. “Funny how that’s what often goes through my head. You go through so much shit, a lot of it from me, yet you push that all aside for me. Tell me…why do you think you’re not good enough for me?”

Because I killed you. Because I stole your girlfriend and locked her in my mind. Because the sight of me causes you pain. Because…there’s too many reasons. “Right now…can you just hold me, please?”

“I can do that.”

We snuggle together, her arms wrapping me against her. I’m tucked into the crook of her arm, head propped in a way that I can hear her heart beat. Its gentle rhythm soothes me to sleep.


	8. Parents

Sunlight is just peeking through the curtains. Chloe’s eyes are closed, her chest rising and falling in gentle sleep. Her blue hair beckons my fingers to touch and feel. The way she still misses her Max is a dull ache inside me. I put that pain in her heart.

Before those thoughts can completely claim me, I push them aside. I cannot be the Max I took from her. But I can be my best for her. Time travel is far more complicated and painful than even that alternative timeline prepared me for.

Her eyes open as my fingers trace across her brows. “Heya,” she groans as she stretches. “Heya,” I whisper.

“Breakfast, then…checking out the rest of Bend?” She nods with a grin.

We make short work of preparing for the day and packing some day packs for wandering around town. Walking through the lobby a lady at the registration desk beckons us. “Ms. Jensen,” she says looking at Chloe. At her nod, the lady hands over a plain white envelope. “A lady left this for you.”

Accepting the envelope, Chloe nods and we walk away from the desk. A stream of curses flows from Chloe as she extracts the contents. She’s holding four polaroids. Lifting them from her hands something inside of me immediately freezes. Vanessa, Ryan, Joyce, David, all taken in my signature style.

There’s nothing written on the pictures, and it looks like each was taken in a familiar environment. Joyce is in the diner, David in the garage, and my parents are in their offices. Peeking into the envelope I spy a small piece of paper. Pulling it out, we look at the words written on it: Collateral. Arcadia Bay. Job. Estates.

“What the fuck does this mean?” Chloe isn’t just pissed, the way she stands tells me she’s worried.

“I don’t know, but I think we should call them and make sure they’re ok.” Chloe nods absently, pulling out her phone as I do with mine.

For a few seconds my finger hovers over the call button for my dad. I don’t know what to expect. Max has been ghosting them for months. I’m sure he’s worried. Meanwhile my parents visited me every couple of weeks. Sure I was surly and didn’t talk much, but that’s more than what’s happened here.

**_I’ll help you._ **

Her words surprise me. Maybe they shouldn’t.

Touching the call button I hear it ring once, twice then go to voice mail. Hearing his voice hits me with a confusing mishmash of emotions.

“Hey dad, this is Max. Just calling to say hi and see how you are. I…I love you.”

Disconnecting the call I stare at my screen. I both want him to call back right away, and I don’t. Agony over what to say to him spins my mind into a standstill. Swiping away from his contact I next go to my mom’s. I really wish dad had picked up. Talking to him is easier.

Touching my mom’s details I hear the call connect and ring. She picks up on the first ring. “Hello, this is Vanessa Caulfield.”

My breath catches in me and I can’t speak.

“Hello? This is Vanessa Caulfield.”

**_Say something, Max!_ **

_Loser._

“M-Mom?”

From the other side comes a sharp gasp. “Maxine?”

“Y-yeah.”

“Oh, Maxine! How are you? Where are you? What’s going on? We’re so worried about you.”

Her rush of words tells me more than the words can convey. The hurt and worry in her voice is only too real. “I-I’m fine, mom. We’re both fine. How are you?”

“Worried sick, young lady-No, I’m sorry, I don’t mean…Maxine, your father and I are ok. We’re both worried about you. When are you coming home?”

I can’t recall the last time I heard my mom stumble over her words like that. “I don’t know mom. Is dad there?”

“No. We both left for work early today. Do you need help? Tell me where you are and we’ll come help you.”

Max? What did you do to our parents?

**_…Ignored them like Chloe said. I couldn’t find the courage to tell them about anything._ **

“No. We’re fine, like I said. I just wanted to hear your voice.” As cliche as those words are, with the way my mom’s concern is seeping into me, I can’t think of anything else to say.

“Who are you with? You keep saying ‘we’.”

“I-I’m with Chloe, mom.”

“I see.” The sudden turn of her voice catches me by surprise. What is causing that? There’s a silence after her words that is deeper than the ocean.

“Maxine. I know the two of you were close when you were younger but you need to be careful with her. She’s not the same girl you knew.”

I’m so stunned by her words that I can’t speak.

“The last thing I want to see is you under her influence and getting hurt.”

Numbly, I pull the phone away from my ear and stare at it. My mom is still talking, probably warning me about Chloe’s evils. With a sadness I touch the disconnect button and stare at the screen. She immediately calls me back but I don’t answer.

“Joyce is ok.” My mind barely registers Chloe’s relief. Again my mom tries calling.

“Max?”

**_Max?_ **

“Yeah, I didn’t get a hold of my dad, but my mom’s ok.” Locking the phone I slide it into my pocket. I can’t think of this right now, and I don’t want to put more on Chloe.

“What do you think we should do?”

The look she gives me tells me she knows something is up. For whatever reason she doesn’t press it though.

“Breakfast first,” I reply. “I need coffee so bad right now.”

“Can do, Max,” she says as she turns and saunters away. I follow, mind buzzing with the conversation I just had with my mom.

“Hey,” I say as we step to the car, “did Joyce say whether she and my parents spoke recently?”

“Yeah, she told me that she and Vanessa have been speaking every week since we left.”

That likely explains it. I nod as we climb into the car. Breakfast is at a local diner. Like the Two Whales diner it’s themed after the hey-day of the 50’s.

A cup of coffee quickly finds its way into my hands. I savor the rich warmth it spreads through me. I’m not much for beer or the other drinks Chloe prefers, but I do love me a good cup of coffee. For some reason diner coffee treats me the best. The memory of the coffee at the Prescottonian stirs briefly to disagree. I push it aside.

Our orders are placed and we sit in silence a while content in our own thoughts.

“Do you think we should go back for our equipment?”

Shrugging her shoulders, she says, “Sure, we can do that. We don’t really need to though. Nothing about it was special.”

“But it’s wasteful.”

Smiling she says, “we’ll go get it then.”

“Why are you smiling?”

“Because I’m glad that Moral Max is still around.”

Blowing air noisily, I say, “Moral Max? More like don’t waste what we have Max.”

“Whatever.”

“You’re impossible sometimes.”

“But you still love me-” A confusion of emotions claims her face and she swallows the rest of her words. I reach over to take her hand, but she slides it away from me. Ouch.

Rubbing my forehead, I force myself to look at this from her perspective. I don’t know how I feel for her, beyond this ‘want’ deep inside me. But she just spent several months building a relationship that I’ve knocked over.

From behind my hands, I say, “What if we also did more of those tests today? We could find out if there’s more to my abilities? And maybe improve my endurance? I mean after yesterday I want to do it.”

She nods at my suggestion. “Sure,” she says in a strangled voice. Whatever hope I tried to buoy by my introspection sinks like a rock at her response.

Our food comes and we eat in silence.

Max? No answer.

After breakfast, in the car she’s just backing out of the parking spot when I ask, “Is it better for you if I just…go somewhere else for a while?”

She hits the brakes so suddenly I’m jerked violently forward. “What kind of question is that?”

“I’m serious. It’s very obvious ever since I came that I am causing you more pain than you need. Every time you look at me you expect to see your girlfriend, not a poor copy of her. You still need healing Chloe, and I’m causing more pain.”

She opens her mouth and closes it several times before growling and putting the car back into the parking spot. Throwing it into neutral she looks at me with a passionate glow in her eyes.

“You are healing me, Max.”

“How? How am I healing you instead of burying a knife into your heart every time you look at me?”

Her hands clench and open and she works to control her breathing. She says something so low I don’t catch it. Once calm she says, “I get that you aren’t the same person, Max. You went through things I don’t quite understand. For the past six months she gave me more than I deserved. How can I turn my back on you when you need it?”

Her words stop any response I was forming.

“Besides, you aren’t as different as you think. You still put me before yourself, which I don’t understand. I mean, even the fact that you asked that question? You care about me in a way most people don’t.”

Her eyes search mine looking for something, a response maybe? “What did your mom tell you?”

“What? Why are you asking about that?”

“Because you’ve been acting weird ever since you talked to her.”

My hands are in my lap and I feel them wringing each other. Staring at them I search for a way to answer her but I can’t avoid this. I don’t want to avoid this.

“She didn’t like that I’m with you. She started going off on how you’re corrupting me.”

“Oh. What did you tell her?”

“I didn’t tell her anything! I was so upset by what she was saying that I hung up on her.”

“Wow, really? That’s impressive, Max. I don’t think you’ve ever stood up to your mom before.”

“That’s not really standing up to her. If I did that I would have told her how wrong she is about you. Instead I ran away.”

“Still, it’s a step I never thought you’d take. It shows you do have a spine.” As she speaks one of her hands reaches across to take mine. She squeezes it a moment before taking hold of the gear shift. “Now, let’s go get our equipment and maybe do more testing.”

We leave the parking lot and Chloe drives us back to the forest. On the way my phone rings. It’s my father. Shooting a worried look at Chloe I decide to answer it.

“Hi, Dad.”

“Hi kiddo! Wow it’s great to hear your voice. How are you?”

“I’m fine dad, happy to hear you as well. Listen, Chloe and I-”

“Honey, I know you’re with Chloe and I’m glad you are.”

“You are?”

“Yes. Your mother and I spoke and she told me about your conversation. I think the two of you out exploring the world is a fun thing for you to do at your age. Just…be careful. And call us more, ok?”

“Ok, dad.”

“Love you, kiddo.”

“Love you too, dad.”

The call disconnects and I look blankly at the screen.

“How’s your dad?”

“He’s good. He thinks what we’re doing is fun and wants us to be careful.”

“That sounds good. Why the sad puppy face?”

Sighing I return my phone to my pocket. We’re nearing the place we left our gear and the car is no longer on the highway. “Before switching places…my parents and I fought. Today is the first I’ve been civil to them in six months.”

“Oh! What did you fight about?”

“You.”

“Me? I thought I was dead in that timeline!”

Shuddering at the casual way she speaks of that, I rub my arms. “You were. They wanted me to go home to Seattle with them after all that. I told them to fuck off. That there was no way I was leaving Arcadia Bay while you were there. We didn’t speak after that. Well…they spoke to me, I didn’t speak to them.”

The car comes to a halt while I speak and she turns off the engine. “That sounds pretty epic. I wish I was there to see it.” Her words make me laugh.

“Yeah, I think mom and dad were more surprised than mad. It was the first time I’d rebelled like that.”

“Sounds like there’s hope for you then with this timeline.”

I chuckle at her words as we get out of the car and walk toward the place we practiced yesterday. Like then only the sounds of the forest are present. Well, along with our steps crashing through underbrush and sticks.

The sounds lull me into a relaxed state and I lean against a tree. Shutting out the sounds of Chloe tromping around I focus on the wind in the branches. Maybe we should escape to some place far away from other people.

“Looks like we’ll need to buy more equipment.” Chloe’s voice is muffled by the forest. Her footsteps draw near and I open my eyes. She’s holding the remains of the duffle bag and what may have been the orange cone. “Looks like they weren’t happy we left.”

“You ok practicing here, or do you want to go somewhere else,” she asks.

Eyeing the holes and tears in the bag my answer is easy. “Let’s go somewhere else.” Returning to the car, we head to town.

A thought has been trapped in the back of my mind ever since seeing those pictures this morning. I finally decide to let it loose. “What do you think of returning to Arcadia Bay now?”

Unlike before my question doesn’t produce an immediate response. Her fingers tap their hold on the steering wheel as she drives. “You haven’t had any visions yet, right?”

“No. I might need to be closer. I really don’t know what causes them, other than imminent danger.”

“Before Shithead Prescott showed up…well you know how I felt. Now that we know he was behind Nathan because of your ability, and that he wants you to work for him…well I still feel like we should stay away from there.”

Carefully wording my response, I say, “I think I understand your view. What concerns me right now are those pictures Sean, or someone, left for us. We don’t know what they mean, nor that message that was with them.”

“Why would they leave such a vague message? We can’t do anything with that.”

Pausing to gather my thoughts, I turn in my seat to fully look at her. “I’m worried, Chloe, worried that something will happen. I don’t trust what Sean said. I think he used Nathan as a scapegoat because we know Nathan. I would feel a lot better if we spent a day or two in Arcadia Bay making sure Joyce is safe.”

She seems to consider my words. Muscles tense in her jaw while she does this. After what seems like an eternity she relaxes and says, “Ok. Yeah, it’s hella strange that someone left us those photos and it’s downright fucking concerning “collateral, Arcadia Bay, Job, Estates” is the only message. Let’s head to Arcadia Bay this afternoon. If after a day or two nothing happens, then we’ll leave.”

A little squeal of delight escapes me as I lean across and hug her arm. “Careful Mad Max, or you’ll steer us into the curb,” she says with a grin. “What about your parents though? Their photos were in there too.”

Growing sober at her words, I let go of her arm. “I-we…we should…” Stopping my mouth before my speech sputters into a mess, I calm myself and try to compose my thoughts. “I’m nervous about checking on them…well, I’m nervous about my mom. We should though. We should go there after Arcadia Bay.” Brightening a little then, I add, “I can show you some of my favorite spots around Seattle!”

As she pulls into the parking lot of the hotel she says, “I’d like that.”

I hurry into the hotel, all excited about returning. I’m glad I was able to convince Chloe! The uncertainty of my vision was weighing on me. It’s when I open the door to our room that I realize something. Chloe bumps into me because I stopped so suddenly.

“Chloe? Are we able to even return? I mean, won’t we be wanted or something?”

She squeezes past me into the room. “We aren’t wanted, at least I don’t think we are. I believe the term is ‘Person of Interest’ though I’m not sure what that means. We do need to be careful though.” She crosses the room to her bag while I close the door. Rummaging through it she soon retrieves a couple of boxes, one of which she throws at me.

Catching it, and almost dropping it, I look at the box.

“Hair dye?”

“I’ve always wondered what you’d look like as a red head. I’m going with black because my hair is way too obvious.”

“What!” I cross to her and touch her hair. “No! I don’t want your blue hair to go.”

“Ah, that’s sweet. But really, I’m immediately recognizable with the blue hair and I’m not shaving it off.”

“How did you know I was going to suggest that?”

“Because, believe it or not, we’ve had this same conversation. And, Miracle Max, you said the exact same thing both times. You even touched my hair, like she did.” Her last words are really soft as she looks down at me.

Her look makes me blush and I turn away. Fingers close around my wrist and gently stop me. She turns me until we’re facing each other again. My breath catches as her fingers move from my wrist to my face, tracing my jaw.

Just as suddenly her fingers jerk away and her eyes screw shut. “Damn it,” she mutters. This time it’s my fingers that close around her wrist as she tries to turn away. Not knowing what else to do, I pull her in for a hug and just hold her. Shudders pass through her. It takes a while until her arms come around me as well.

We stand that way I don’t know how long, before I slacken my grip and push away. “Red for me, black for you. We better get started if we want to make Arcadia Bay tonight.”

After a hesitant smile from her we set to work. It’s a messy, smelly process but we get our hair prepped and the color applied. A little over an hour and a half later we’re done and cleaning up. The blue in Chloe’s hair turned out to blend well with the black, so even places where the dye didn’t apply well it looks good.

Chloe can’t keep her eyes or hands off me. She’s constantly touching my hair. It’s very obvious she likes my hair colored and it gives me something to think about.

Once ourselves and the bathroom are relatively clean we pack up our stuff and throw our bags into the car. Chloe makes one last stop at the registration desk to checkout and we leave.

It’s around a four trip. Right now it’s early-afternoon. We won’t get there until close to nightfall, assuming we don’t stop anywhere.

For the first hour or so we drive in silence, listening to music and engrossed in our own thoughts. The passing scenery claims a lot of my attention as we pass up through Sisters and over toward Salem. Forest and mountains always spark my imagination.

Somewhere before Salem I decide to ask again for more information. Turning to face her, I say, “What actually happened in Arcadia Bay? W-when you had to leave?”

**_What?! Max, don’t!_ **

_When has she ever listened to reason?_

She lets out a long breath. “There’s not much to tell, Max. We were coming home from the grocery store. Some guys jumped us, Max hurt them and we fled.”

Because of Max I knew this wasn’t the whole story. How to get Chloe to open up?”

“That sounds…lacking in details.”

“Do you really want to get into this now?” She tenses behind the wheel and pulls her hand off the gear shift, and away from my touch.

“It’s…it’s important, Chloe. I need to understand you…her better to understand us.”

**_Don’t do this, Max!_ **

_You should know by now, all she can do is destroy. She’s not happy unless everything around her burns!_

“Ok, Max! You really want to know? I’ll fucking tell you! We’re walking out of the Sav-Mart, only Max isn’t with me anymore. She’s standing 30 feet away by my truck. And some generic punk dude is leaning against it.”

“Just as I spot her, she…I don’t know…teleports to me and the heads of six guys explode from gunfire. Max is just standing there with this really weird look on her face. Totally freaked me out!”

**_Fuck you, Max!_ **

“She dragged me to the truck and we left. So, yeah, that’s what happened.”

_Boom! Mistress Pain!_

That other Max is laughing in my head. I don’t understand what’s happening in my head anymore, as if I ever did.

“That’s…fucked up,” I finally say, lamely. “I mean I can understand now why you don’t want to talk about it.

“The look on her face, Max. It was like, like I didn’t know who that person was. It scared the shit out of me. She scared me.” Her voice trembles a little at the end.

Reaching over, I take her hand in mine and kiss it. “Maybe she didn’t know either, Chloe.” My voice is calm, soft, careful to leave any judgement out of it. “Maybe she was at the end of all her options and had to do something extreme, something she didn’t really want to do.”

My thoughts drift over episodes from That Week. Saving Kate. Escaping the dark room. Choices on a cliff.

“Earlier I told you that I would do anything for you. Keeping you alive is top of that list. That…week you never experienced. By the end of that week I would do anything to keep you alive. You died more times that week than I can count.

“It reached a point where I didn’t care what the consequences were, as long as you were alive and ok. Watching you die, over and over and over…it changed me. It’s…one of the reason’s I’m always touching you…to convince myself you’re ok and alive.”

“Ah, I thought it was because you love me!” Her tone is playful, but unconvincing.

“All I mean Chloe, is crazy shit can cause us to do crazy things!”

Her body relaxes. “You’re right.”

After that we listen to music and enjoy each others banter and company. The four hours pass quickly. A mixture of thoughts and emotions pass through me as we drive by the sign welcoming us to Arcadia Bay. It’s been a long, strange trip, but I’m back home. Again.


	9. Torture

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: self-harm and suicide are portrayed in this chapter.

We go to the best motel in town, which isn’t really much, and Chloe gets us a room. After bringing our bags in, I manage to convince her to take us to her house to see Joyce. Showing caution, Chloe parks the car on another street and we walk the rest of the way.

We let ourselves into the house, which is quiet. “Joyce,” Chloe says loudly as I close the door. No one answers. We separate, with me going upstairs. A wistful part of me wants to see Chloe’s room again. So many memories in it pull at me.

My hand is on the doorknob to her room and it focuses my mind on the last time I was in there. It was after she died. Joyce had let me in to reminisce. Suddenly, a loud thunk startles me, breaking my thoughts. Another thunk echoes through the house and I faintly hear swearing. Movement draws my eyes to the window. What’s happening outside? Drawing close I see more movement, and hear more thumps and thuds.

A prickle of cold sweeps through my body. My feet lock into place and my hands ball into fists. What I see outside is unbelievable. It’s something I hoped to never see again. The whirling debris confirms it’s no mistake. A smaller, but still powerful, tornado is outside.

In the next moment, the window shatters scattering glass all around me! Sharp pricks of pain lance my hands and my ears are assaulted by the rushing wind. The sound and pain break my paralysis. Automatically, I enter the stillness between moments.

Chloe! I have to find her! Fighting the stillness I shamble to the stairs and down. Something drags at my grasp of the stillness, making it difficult to stay there. The downstairs is empty, and the garage door is open. I can feel my hold slipping as I enter and find Chloe in mid-step.

My hand takes hers, bringing her into the stillness with me. Immediately, it’s a lot easier to hold onto the stillness. I pull her against me, briefly explaining what’s happening. I end, saying, “We have to get out of here, Chloe!”

“No,“ she says, “not until we know Joyce and David aren’t here!” Nodding in agreement we do a sluggish search of the house and backyard. We are the only ones present. Chloe leads me away from her house, my steps wandering and shuffling. It’s becoming harder again to maintain my hold.

Some distance away we stand, looking at her house. Although much smaller than the storm of last October, the twister is still quite powerful. “I’m going to restore time,” I mumble. Chloe nods. Her grip on my hand hurts but I don’t say anything.

The rush of sound deafens us. The storm heads straight into Chloe’s house, dismantling it in seconds. Boards, furniture, and more shoot into the air. Some launch sideways, hitting other houses or crashing into cars on the street. Others blast into the air like rockets. We’re far enough away we should be safe. Still, I pull Chloe after me under a tree.

The old swing set is sent spinning into the air, then the tornado vanishes.

Words escape me. They don’t escape Chloe though as she launches a stream of profanity into the air on the tail of the storm. I keep her with me under the tree several minutes while debris rains down. She pulls hard against my grip until I step in front of her.

“I’m not letting you out there until it’s safe! I won’t let you get hurt.”

I shudder to think what will happen if anyone gets in her way when I finally do let her go. Her face is wrinkled by a deep frown. In between outbursts she grinds her teeth. A minute or two after the last debris falls I let her go. She’s off like a rocket. With her long legs there’s no way I’ll catch her.

The scene in the fading light dumbfounds me. Just moments ago Chloe’s childhood home stood here. Now, everything is gone. As we stand there, people start coming out of their houses. In the distance I hear sirens.

“Chloe, we have to go.” She’s kneeling and digging through the debris.

“We have to go!” Struggling, she pulls a small box from under some broken boards and nods at me. Together we sprint back to our car. In moments we’re inside and she has it started. Only then do I notice cuts across the backs of my hands. That must be what I felt when the window broke.

Now that we’re away, the strangeness of the tornado consumes my thoughts, blocking out everything else. There’s no question in my mind: that storm was controlled by someone. To appear out of nowhere, destroy only Chloe’s house and immediately disappear is too suspicious and strange to be natural.

That means, I think, the storm we stopped last October was not due to my time traveling. The thought burrows deep into my mind, undermining my decision to let Chloe die. If I was so wrong about that decision, what else was I, am I, wrong about? Did I really kill my best friend for no reason?

_Yes!_

Did I really put myself through six months of despair because of a poor decision?

_Yes!_

Can I really trust any decision I make after this?

_No!_

“What’s wrong, Max?” Chloe’s question brings me back to the present. My body is shaking, my hands clutching my bag tightly. I want to speak. I open my mouth, but nothing is happening, no words, no sound. No air.

It’s like my lungs forgot how to work! My mouth opens and closes and my hands start fluttering. A terror paralyzes my mind, consumed by one thought: I killed Chloe for no reason!

“Shit, Max! What’s wrong?” Her hand starts thumping my back. Like something popped free, air suddenly fills my lungs. Ragged gasps escape me as I start breathing again. “What happened?”

I notice we’re parked on the side of the road. “It-it was all for nothing!” The words are like nails across the blackboard. Chloe flinches as they screech into the air. “Your sacrifice…the last six months! It was for nothing!”

Her hand is rubbing my back, probably trying to calm me. All I want to do is scream! Scream! Next thing I know, I’m shoving my hand into my mouth and screaming. “Max!” Her words are faint in my ears next to my scream. I scream and scream and scream.

Pain blossoms in my vision, again and again. Fingers scramble to latch onto my arm. I scream. I killed her! For no fucking reason!

Someone is whispering. Words of comfort. Telling me everything will be ok. She died for no reason!

My cheeks are wet. My head hurts. I’m the one that should be dead! Not Chloe. Not Kate. Me.

How long I sit there, surrounded by blackness and pain, I don’t know. Those thoughts tumble around in my head, destroying any good thought that surfaces. I’m no good. I shouldn’t be alive.

Pain and blackness slowly fade into pale evening light. There’s a head on my lap, black haired. Hands clutch my wrists, holding them down. My throat hurts. I can barely hold up my head. I just want to slip to the floor of the car in a limp pile. The slightest move shoots pain through me.

Soft sobs decorate the air. Not from me, from Chloe. My fingers twitch as I try to move my hands and Chloe looks up at me. The look on her face breaks my heart. Eyes reddened, cheeks tear streaked and lost. When she sees me looking at her she sobs out my name.

Her arms are around my neck, hugging me tight. “Max,” she whispers, “Are you here? Are you with me?”

Why is she wasting her time on me? I’m not worth her attention.

With great mental effort I push those thoughts aside. Her eyes are searching my face now, as if answers will be found there. My hand strays up and I brush away tears with my finger tips. What little strength I have ebbs away and my hand falls.

She catches my hand, holding it like a cherished treasure. “Yes.” My voice is someone else’s, harsh and scratchy. Her lips move but she doesn’t say whatever she is thinking.

Whatever claimed me is past, although the damage remains. There are teeth marks on the hand she holds, some scratched and bloody. My head hurts something fierce. Strength does seep back into me. Chloe is clenching at her hair, her face, my arms.

“I’m…ok, Chloe.”

“No you’re not, Max.” She places my hand on my lap, stands and brushes off her knees. “Let’s get you back to the room.” She closes the passenger door and runs to the driver side. My eyes focus on nothing. Her hand takes mine, holding it while she drives.

Everything from there to sitting on our bed is a blur. My shoes are off, along with my hoodie and I’m propped against the headboard. Chloe paces at the foot of the bed, hands wringing. She’s mumbling something I can’t hear, shooting me glances now and then.

* * *

Cold rain pelts my face and body. My hair and clothes are plastered to me. I look around, confused. The motel room is gone and I stand upon the cliff beside the lighthouse.

Lightning shatters the sky, deafening thunder sounding before the light dies.My heart is racing and my body begins shivering. Again and again the lightning shoots across the sky.

There! The light glints off water! Only it’s not a wave…it’s the twister again! My breath catches as I revisit a scene from six months ago.

I step back, not wanting to watch. Movement catches my eyes. Two other people stand near, watching the storm bear down on the town. Two girls with short brown hair. Two girls I recognize. As one they turn to me.

“You have to stop it, Max!”

“Let the storm wash this place away!”

* * *

Light stabs painfully through my slitted lids into my mind. “Fuck, fuck, fuck” Chloe’s voice is distant. My head feels so heavy, like it wants to roll off my neck. Hands are holding me up. My face and shirt are wet.

I try to push the hands aside, which elicits a sob. “Oh god, Max,” Chloe chokes, “you’re back!”

Poor Chloe. What she must be going through right now! “Sit still,” she urges, “you fell over and knocked a water bottle all over you.”

That is a new one for me. “The vision,” I whisper.

She doesn’t say anything.

“I need…ibuprofen. Bad.”

Now I can see her face, creased in concern. She’s pulled the sheet up to wipe my face with it. It feels like my head is being squeezed. She lets the sheet drop, moist with water and blood, and digs through our bags, retrieving a blue and white bottle. Popping open a water bottle she hands it and two blue capsules to me. I down them and she takes the bottle from my hands as I close my eyes.

“Turn…off…the…light,” I groan. Darkness blankets me, reducing the pain stabbing my head. The bed moves as Chloe settles next to me. She pulls me against her, making me lean into her shoulder. Her hand plays with my hair as she waits patiently. Gradually the pain lessens as the medicine begins to work. I let out a deep breath and my body relaxes. The pain from earlier ebbs as well.

“So…that was different, Max.”

“Yeah.” I don’t feel like talking yet. She continues stroking my hair, not saying anything. I let time pass, just enjoying the feel of her fingers on my scalp.

“It was not the same vision I had before coming here.”

Her hand stops moving at my words. “What do you mean?”

“It was the vision I had six months ago. A storm crossing the bay to destroy the town.” Only it’s not. In my other visions I was the only person present. This time…this time the other Max’s were there.

“What about earlier, in the car? What happened then?”

The honest truth is I barely know. I mean, I know what started the episode, and that’s not the first time I’ve…hit myself. She even saw me do it the first night. The rest, I’ve don’t really understand. The reminder is enough to knot my insides. I don’t know if I have the willpower to share that with her.

_Tell her so she can show you the hate you deserve._

My body flinches at that thought. Chloe gasps and I feel her hands on me. “M-Max?”

I have to tell her. I’m not strong enough to do this on my own. That is another thing Kate taught me, even though I never fully leaned on Kate. Opening my eyes I look at her in the dimness of the room. My hands are grasping my elbows. “When…” My voice dies. Her hands pry mine from my elbows so she can hold them. That’s not what I need right now.

“Hold me…please?” Moments later I’m in her arms. She’s cradling me like a child, arms wrapped around me tightly. Leaning my head against her chest, I listen to her heart beat.

“When I saw the storm destroy your house…” The words are dragged out of me with great effort. “…it made me realize my decision at the lighthouse…the decision to sac…sac…not stop Nathan was wrong. I killed you Chloe! I let you die for no fucking reason!”

It’s rising inside of me again, the terror, the hate. A shaking captures my limbs. My hands start tightening and the loathing rushes into my mind. I’m not worth her care! She should focus on helping herself, not me!

Before I can raise my hand, Chloe grabs it and holds it. She strokes it until I stop shaking. The loathing is still there, lurking, waiting to unleash the punishment I deserve.

After a long time she says, “Everything you told me says you and I made the best decision we could. Yeah, maybe it was the wrong decision. You’re here now. I’m here now. That’s what matters.”

My head is shaking, denying what she says. No. I fucked up. I killed my best friend. You don’t make mistakes like that.

Her hand strokes my hair, holding me tight against her. The gentle rhythm of her heart soothes me despite my inner demons.

“I tried calling Joyce.” Her voice is quiet and empty. “No one answered. I tried several times. I even…I even tried David. He didn’t answer either.”

A chill rushes through me at her words and I angle my head to look at her. “I’m so sorry, Chloe,” I murmur. “We’ll find them! We have to!”

My words bring a wan smile to her lips. “You’re remarkable, you know that? You just experienced shit I barely understand and you’re concerned about me? What did I do to deserve you?”

“You gave me a friendship and love that surpasses my mistakes. It’s not a matter of deserving, it’s a matter of loving.”

Light glitters in her eyes at my words before she turns her head aside. “Do you believe that,” she asks.

“Believe what?”

“That you are loved?”

My whole body goes tense at her words and I don’t know what to say.

_Deny it._

“You say that, Max, and your actions show me more than your words do…but do you actually believe you are loved? That you are worth it?”

The trembling returns and my hands are clenching again. In my shame I can’t speak. In that moment I know she knows and that hurts even worse. I lower my head so she doesn’t see the shame and loathing in my eyes.

“Promise me something?”

What could she want? How have I failed her now?

“What?”

“When all this is done, that you’ll come see my therapist with me.”

Oh. My failure wrestles with her care in my mind. It’s all I can do to say, “Ok.”

Her arms continue to hold me tight. I only wish she could guard me from myself.

* * *

Wind whips my clothes around. Clouds darken the sky, chilling the air. Rain pours down. “Why didn’t you save me, Max?” Kates voice is hurt, accusatory. She stands on the edge of the roof, heels hanging over the drop.

Like before, my arm raises, beckoning her. “I did save you, Kate,” I protest, “and then you saved me.”

“You didn’t.” She shakes her head and steps backward, tumbling from view. I fall to my knees. In the distance I hear her body hit the ground. The sound cuts my heart.

“You said you were my friend, Max. Why didn’t you save me?” She’s standing again on the edge, heels hanging over.

“No, Kate! I did.” The wind tears my weak words apart as she disappears from view. The sound of the impact sends a blow through me.

“You left me behind, Max. You said things would be better if you went back and saved Chloe. Why aren’t things better for me, Max?”

“They were supposed to be, Kate.” My voice is breaking now. Another impact, my heart is breaking into pieces.

“I was supposed to be fine, Max. Why aren’t I fine?”

Body falling, hitting the ground. I’m bent over, head touching the roof. The rain has drenched me. The coldness from the rain is a pittance compared to the pain in my heart. My grief is ripped from me in a tearful shout.

“Why wasn’t I good enough for you, Max? Why could you only think about Chloe?” Hair whipping from her bun as she plummets from view.

Fingers grab my hair and shirt and jerk me up, forcing my head to stare at Kate. “Every choice you make hurts others, just to make you happy.” The words hurt, stabbing my heart.

“Why, Max? Why wasn’t I good enough for you?” She falls, always falling. I don’t want to watch but I can’t stop, just like I can’t stop the tears running down my face.

“I said I would always be your friend, Max. Why weren’t you always my friend?” The sound of impact, a cry ripped from my heart.

Max looks at me. A darkness in her eyes, so deep it scares me. Strange colors surround her eyes, purples and blacks and reds. “You call your power a curse, but it doesn’t stop you from using it!” I gasp as her fingers dig into my shoulders.

Behind her, Kate appears again. No! I want to shut my eyes but Max commands my attention. “Max the Destroyer is a more apt name for you.” Now her words are low, piercing the wind with their hate. “You have destroyed more lives than you’ve saved!”

“Why…” I choke on my words as Kate appears again. “Why do you hate me so much?”

“Because you took everything from me.”

“What-” She’s gone. Only Kate remains. She looks at me one last time. The hurt and betrayal in her eyes stop my words.

“I loved you, Max. I gave up everything I was taught, everything I held dear, to love you. Why didn’t you love me?” She steps off the ledge. The pain in her eyes is the last thing I see.

* * *

With a scream I fling myself upright. “Kate! No!” My breaths are shallow and quick, my thoughts a mess. Where’s Kate? I have to save Kate!

Hands touch my arms and I shake them off. Words tumble from my mouth, words I don’t hear. Gibberish shouted in pain and terror. Sheets and blankets tangle my legs as I struggle to stand. I have to get to the school before Kate jumps!

Arms wrap themselves around my waist. I struggle to free myself, shouting words I don’t understand.

“Max! No! You can’t save her! Kate is gone!”

No! I struggle even as my mind acknowledges the truth of those words. No! My heart aches as the truth sinks in. No!

I’m in Chloe’s arms. Tears are on her own face, looking down at me. “She’s been dead for six months, Max.” Such pain is in her voice. My fingers rise and trace the tears flowing down her face.

It seems like someone else is talking, but it’s my voice, my words. “Kate is dead?” I see her again, standing on that ledge. Pain and betrayal in her eyes as she falls. I flinch when her eyes pass the edge of the roof. “Kate is dead…and I’m broken.”

Chloe’s arms are like a lifeline around me. I cling to her. I’m afraid if I let go I’ll slip away, back into that painful nightmare, back into Her control.

“I’m broken, Chloe.” I whisper the words. “Broken and worthless.” I repeat the words over and over. It’s my mantra. It is who and what I am.

All night she holds me, not sleeping. I’m afraid to sleep, afraid to see Kate, afraid of that other Max. My words of loathing and self-contempt are countered by her words of comfort and care, but they aren’t enough because I don’t believe them.

It’s when the room is starting to brighten from the dawn that I decide I have to tell her. I have to tell Chloe how broken and worthless I am. So she can throw me away like the refuse that I am. Not here though.

“Please take me to visit Kate today.” My voice is hollow and as broken as my soul. Chloe strokes my hair and murmurs agreement.

After washing my face and changing clothes, we’re out in the car. My bag is clutched tightly against me. Chloe gives me a smile as she backs out of the spot. She’s being strong for me. I rest my hand on hers as she shifts into first.

The drive is over before I realize it and we’re standing at the entrance to the cemetery. Chloe takes my hand in hers, leading me through the grounds. A small stone, modest just like Kate, marks her site. A variety of flowers surround the stone. Some are planted, some are small bouquets in vases. The care around her grave tells me people do care for her and miss her.

Sinking to my knees, I trace the letters on her stone, much like I used to do with Chloe’s. Kate Beverly Marsh - Daughter. The similarities are not lost on me. Part of me though is angry that her headstone is so small. Is her family ashamed that she committed suicide? Fucking hypocrites!

Chloe kneels next to me. “Max…you were inconsolable after she jumped.” Her hand holds mine as she speaks. “She blamed herself for Kate jumping. She was on the roof with her. Later…she told me she felt like jumping also, because she failed Kate.”

“Chloe…there’s something I have to tell you.” How do I do this? If not for the voices and nightmares I wouldn’t believe it. How can I make Chloe believe?

I think about the different ways to share this, to admit this.

-Brace yourself, Chloe. Your girlfriend is still alive. In my head.- Blech.

-Ok, things are about to get weird.- That sounds so…corny. It’s not serious like she deserves.

Her fingers entwine themselves in mine. “What is it, Max?” She can see me, see my face as I think of the right way to tell her.

My eyes close. When I tell her, Chloe will see me for who I really am. She will see how worthless I am. She will hate me. How could she not? But she deserves the truth. Even if it means I lose her?

_Max the Destroyer is a more apt name for you!_ Her words shoot through me, a bright wound across my heart.

“It’s something I don’t…I don’t understand. I won’t blame you if you don’t believe me…or hate me.”

“Max.” She’s moved behind me, wrapping her arms around me. “My girlfriend is a time traveler. Do you know how fucking unbelievable that is? Don’t worry about what you want to tell me. I’ll believe it no matter what it is.”

Girlfriend. She doesn’t know how much those words both delight and hurt me. For I have hurt her in ways she doesn’t yet comprehend. And in a few minutes when she does know?

She’s pulling me back into her. “And how could I hate you? You’re amazing, Max!”

She’s trying to reassure me. It’s almost helping. The words of that hateful Max haunt me though, undermining the effect of Chloe’s words.

She’s holding me against her, arms wrapped around my shoulders. I hold onto her arms. Her touch is so comforting. I just have to do it. I have to trust her.

“Your Max is still alive.” Her body stills against mine. I can feel the question before she asks it. “What do you mean?”

“Your Max, Chloe.” The words burn my tongue as I speak them. “She’s still alive…in my head.”

Silence. Right now I wish she was facing me so I could see what she is thinking, what she is feeling. “Explain.” One simple word, neutral, without a hint of what she is thinking.

“I…don’t really understand. The first night after the switch I thought I was having a dream. I saw her.” I tell her about that first conversation. The pain Max experienced, the anger in her voice. “Like I said, I thought I was dreaming…until she started talking to me during the day.”

“And…I have another Max inside my head. When she spoke to me I thought it was my normal…self-doubt…self-hatred. Now I…don’t know.”

My voice feels like someone else is talking. A part of me is detached, floating above us in the air. I see Chloe holding me, her arms loose as I tell her everything.

The hurt and pain of Chloe’s Max. Max’s coercing me to share my pain with Chloe. The torturous parts of the dreams. The fear in her Max as she spoke of the hateful Max. I tell her.

The pain she felt watching Chloe struggle with losing her and accepting me. The remorse her Max felt about not discussing her pain of saving Chloe. The silences. How they fill me with fear.

The hateful words spoken to me during the days, fueling my guilt and self-loathing. My fears as it seemed those words were true. The episode yesterday. My nightmare last night as Kate died over and over as I was forced to watch.

Telling her about hating myself is like ripping broken glass across a raw wound. But I do it. My body shakes and trembles and I try to hurt myself more than once. Each time she catches my hands and won’t let me. I lay my soul bare in a way I’ve never done and I’m scared, oh god I’m so scared!

Sharing all this is both draining and liberating. Like a tightly wound spring gradually loosened, tension bleeds from my mind and body. I tell her everything, and she listens. Sharing all this feels so good, so right, even though it’s so selfish. I’m dumping my burdens on her. She doesn’t deserve this. She deserves a strong, powerful woman. Not someone weak and broken like me.

My heart is in my throat when I finish. I’m waiting, expecting her to not believe a word I say. Expecting her to hate me, wanting her to hate me, because I hate myself.

Her head leans against the back of mine. Warm breath washes down my neck. My body is tense waiting for the rejection I am sure will come.

“Ok.” The word, so simple, washes over me. Ok? “Ok,” she repeats, “We’ll figure this out…together. We’ll figure out what this means, Max. And we’ll figure out how to make it better.”

The confidence and warmth in her words floors me. It is not what I expected. “Chloe…”

“I mean it, Max. Yeah, this is some crazy, class-A shit. But I can’t pick and choose which parts of you I’m going to love. I gotta love all of you, even parts that don’t make any sense to me. I’m not giving you up just because you’re dealing with shit I don’t understand.”

“Aren’t…aren’t you mad at me for hiding her from you? You should hate me for that!”

“No, Max, I’m not mad at you and I definitely don’t hate you. Two other people in your head? How do you even explain that to someone and not sound crazy! How can you even live with it and not be insane?”

“But I’ve done such horrible things to you! Everything I’ve done has hurt you!”

“That’s an exaggeration. Without you, I’d have never enjoyed the magic of the stillness. In the few days you’ve been here I have learned more about you than I ever knew. And you’re still in there, Max. The girl from six months ago? The girl who helped her best friend? She’s still in there buried beneath six months of guilt. I see her. Just like you see me.”

Her acceptance and belief loosens the tightness in my throat and I melt into her embrace. She cradles me against her body, giving soft kisses to my head. After a time, when I’m feeling spent, she holds me up.

“Was that other Max, the hateful Max, involved in what happened yesterday?”

“Yes. She talks to me all the time, just to tear me down. She fuels my self-hate and gets really happy when I make a mistake or get hurt. Honestly, Chloe, it’s hard not to believe her. I’ve fucked up so many things with my power.” There’s something I really want to ask, but fear the answer.

“What…happened yesterday?”

She doesn’t answer right away. I wait, patiently. After seeing my face in the mirror this morning, I can guess at what happened. Bruises up and down the left side of my face.

“You went crazy. It freaked me the fuck out. When you started hitting your face…” She stifles a sob. “That first night, I saw you doing it and I said nothing. Yesterday…it was one of the worst fucking things I’ve ever seen. It took everything I had to stop you. You wouldn’t respond to anything I said. You just kept saying ‘I killed her’ and ‘I’m worthless.’”

She crawls in front of me and sits close, putting her face next to mine. “You are not worthless, Max Caulfield! You make mistakes, just like everyone else-”

“My mistakes kill p-”

“Max!” The force behind my name stops my vitriolic words and scatters my thoughts. “You make mistakes. We all do. That’s ok.” She takes a deep breath. “The point is, I love you. And nothing that hateful Max can do will change that. Shitting on yourself will not change that.”

My head ducks at her words and I feel something warm inside. She has such confidence in me. I wish I had that confidence.

At the same time, the belief she has in me gives me strength. An energy has infused me knowing that I’m not in this alone, that Chloe chose to stay with me. To accept me and all my fuck-ups.

Her fingers touch my chin and I look up. “Now,” she says, “let’s do what you came here to do. Talk to Kate, Max.”

My fingers trace her jawline and I nod. Moving around her, I sit by Kate’s grave marker. My thoughts turn to her again. Her warm, unassuming smile. Her unique perspective on life. Her simple needs and desires. In whatever world, whatever reality she exists in, I hope she has peace and love.

Returning to the here and now, I compose my thoughts.

"I love you, Kate. You were there when I needed you most. You helped me when everyone else left. You cared when others didn’t. I miss you. I will always love you."

Tears swarm my eyes, spurred by these words.

"I’m sorry that I was so selfish that I didn’t see your love when it was right in front of me. I’m sorry that I wasn’t good enough to save you. I want to be better. I want to be like you. Please forgive me for not being there for you."


	10. Power

A footstep causes me to jerk away, sending my remaining tears glistening into the grass. Looking up I see someone I never expected to see here: Victoria Chase. Her hair is shoulder length, dull, and a mess. There’s a haunted look to her eyes and they can’t seem to focus on one thing. Her skin is the wrong kind of pale. She holds flowers in her hands, a bundle of peonies.

Her eyebrows lift in surprise. “Max Caulfield?” Her voice is even different, softer. It sounds defeated.

So much for the disguise. Standing, I look at her. “Victoria?” Wow. Amazing greeting there.

There’s an unfathomable darkness to her eyes. It reminds me of hateful Max’s eyes.

“How are you, Vic?” There, that’s better. I think.

Her eyes narrow at my greeting. “Uh, you kind of weren’t on speaking terms,” Chloe whispers in my ear. Now my eyes go wide.

“I’m fucking terrible, Max. I feel like your face looks.” The usual edge has returned to her voice, but it’s a hollow echo of the past. “You should know!”

I itch to freeze time and learn from Chloe why Vic and I aren’t on speaking terms. I’m guessing it’s something to do with Kate. My inner Max isn’t helping me.

I move away from Kate’s stone to allow Vic access. A quizzical look twists her face. Looking at the flowers she holds, I guess something and turn it into a question. “Are all the flowers around Kate’s grave from you, Vic?”

Her head nods stiffly, but she doesn’t move otherwise. Frustration rises in me. Neither Victoria nor Chloe nor Max are helping me here. After many long moments I finally verbalize it. “Will someone please tell me what’s going on between Vic and I?”

Her head jerks back at my words and she stumbles backward, almost dropping the peonies. “What the fuck, Max,” her usual vitriol surfaces now. “You have so many enemies you can’t keep track of them?”

Chloe steps between us, facing me. Quietly, she says, “You and Victoria got into a huge fight last October. You blamed her for Kate’s death and wouldn’t forgive her. She blamed you for not saving Kate when you were on the roof. You’ve hated each other ever since.”

My breath catches at Chloe’s words and it’s like ice is flowing through my veins. Memories of Victoria from the previous timeline fly through my mind. Creating and sharing the video. Bullying in the bathroom. Recording Kate’s death.

There’s truth in feeling Victoria was responsible for Kate’s death. However, Victoria didn’t act alone. Certainly she didn’t know the full extent of what Nathan and Mark were doing. Victoria was an everyday bully, but those two? I bet their exposure broke her world.

I look at Kate’s grave, the memory of her friendship so vivid in my heart. Kate was a noble, selfless, loving person. She embodied many good things. And she loved me. How could I hate Victoria and be worthy of Kate’s love?

A scene from last night’s nightmare replays in my mind. Kate, heels over the edge of the roof. Such hurt and pain in her eyes that it tears at your heart. Words spoken just as she steps off the roof: Why didn’t you love me, Max?

The guilt those words stir in me will never go away, not in this life. I look at Victoria, standing far from me. Her face is turned away. A breeze is blowing her hair across her cheek, hiding her eyes. Her shoulders are slumped and her hands tremble. It’s clear she’s in pain and seeking for a way to relieve it. I don’t need to add more to it.

Is this what Kate saw when she looked at me?

Stepping around Chloe I approach Vic. “I’m sorry, Victoria. I’m sorry for blaming you for Kate’s death.”

Her hand pushes her hair aside, giving her a clear look at me. Her brows are furrowed, framing suspicion. Hoping this is the right thing to do, I step forward and give her a hug. She tenses, then sags against me. Her arms encircle me as well, holding tight like I’m all that’s keeping her upright.

Behind me I hear a whistle and Chloe says, “Now that’s hella amazeballs!”

Victoria doesn’t want to let me go, so we stand there awkwardly for quite a while. At last she steps away and wipes her eyes. I didn’t even know she was crying.

“This doesn’t mean we’re friends, Caulfield,” she growls.

“No, it doesn’t, Vic. But it does mean you should stop blaming yourself for Kate’s death. We all played a part in it. Even me.”

Deciding to take a chance, I rummage in my satchel retrieving a notebook and pen. Writing my phone number and motel information in it,I press the paper into her hand.

“I don’t want to bring pain anymore, Vic. If you need to talk, I’m here for you.”

She looks at the paper, eyes not blinking. Giving her shoulder a squeeze, I beckon to Chloe and walk away. Chloe pats Vic’s shoulder as she strides by.

Several strides away, I look back. Vic is still looking at the paper. “You sure that’s safe,” Chloe mutters. I shrug. “She looks almost ready to join Kate,” I reply, “I’ve screwed up enough things because you are all I care about…it’s time I care about others as well.”

Her hand takes mine as we walk back to the car. Several feet before the entrance she stops. Her hand pulling on mine stops me as well. “That’s not true, Max. You do care about others. You always have. It’s one of the reasons I love you. I wish you could see yourself the way I see you.” The smile that accompanies her words plays catch with my heart.

She steps close and kisses me then pulls away and hurries toward the car, dragging me behind her. If my face looks anything like hers the sun isn’t needed to light our way.

Once we are in the car, I take her hand. “Thank you, Chloe, for bringing me here. I’m…really sorry about yesterday. I was so focused on myself that I didn’t think about you. You lost your house, we don’t know if Joyce and David are safe…We need to talk, Chloe. About this mess we’re in…about us.”

“I don’t know about you, but I could use some food right now.” The emptiness in my stomach agrees with her.

“Coffee would be great as well.”

The car stops in the parking lot of the Two Whales diner and I hesitate before getting out. Like has been happening a lot lately, memories rush in of a past that only existed for me. The inability to talk about those memories with anyone in a meaningful way is one thing that led me down a dark path months ago.

I look across the roof of the car at Chloe as we both get out. Her crooked smile rushes through me. I am so thankful to have her, to be able to share everything with someone.

We’re in our booth, a cup of coffee for each of us and our orders cooking in the kitchen. I see the pained looks Chloe gives to the diner when she thinks I’m not looking. Reaching over I touch her hand, saying, “We’re going to find them. We will!”

“I uh, got something I need to tell you.” The way she moves, the way she speaks, I know whatever it is I won’t want to hear it.

“What is it?”

“I also tried calling your dad yesterday when you were…well, he didn’t answer. I also tried your mom. The same.”

My grip tightens on the mug. This must be like how she felt when she couldn’t get through to Joyce. Confused. Alarmed. Worried.

She repeats my words to her, how we’ll find them, how everything will be fine. Because I know it’s what I wanted from her when I said the same, I smile. Her hand touches mine. She knows I’m not feeling it, not feeling the confidence any more, and it’s ok.

Our food arrives then but the hunger I felt earlier is gone. Not so with Chloe. How can she eat like that when she’s worried about Joyce?

I pick at my food, eating some when she presses me. It’s tasteless in my mouth and I have to force myself to swallow it. My eyes drift up to the TV and I see a news clip. My fork pauses in midair as I realize what’s showing. A grainy, shaking phone video of the storm.

I watch from another person’s eyes as it bears down on the house, obliterating it. I feel again the terror coursing through my body frozen in time. The insistent urge to find Chloe and the drag on my time control stretch my mind. And I remember something.

Chloe, having seen my frozen expression, has turned and is watching the footage. “Last night,” I say, my fork still poised with a bite. “Something weird happened.”

“Weirder than a storm destroying my house?” Bitterness and anger lace her voice again.

“Before I brought you into the stillness with me, I felt drained, like I couldn’t hold onto it much longer. The moment I touched you, that feeling disappeared.”

She finishes the rest of the food on her plate, not looking at me.

“Are you going to eat that?” She’s pointing at the bacon on my plate. I put it on hers and try to eat more of my waffle. “What are you saying,” she askes as she grabs one of the strips.

Finishing my bite of waffle I say, “I think you did something to renew my power.” That captures her attention. She stops, bacon hanging from her mouth, and looks me fully in the eyes. Her gaze doesn’t waver, but she looks so cute I can’t help smiling.

Finally, she chews up the bacon, letting the rest fall to the plate. “Are you saying…”, and her voice is both soft and powerful, “that I have a power?”

Not sure if that is where I was going, even though it’s what I said, I shrug and nod. “I think so?”

The light that fills her eyes at my hesitant words, wow it rivals the sun for brightness! At once she’s bouncing in her seat and talking rapidly about how cool this is, how does she use it, and what else can she do?

I try my best to help, but really this is all a guess. I don’t know how she can access her power, if she has one. That doesn’t matter though because she is so focused on possibility that my weak guesses don’t bother her in the slightest.

Her enthusiasm is so infectious it pushes aside my other feelings and I let it fill me. My appetite returns enough for me to finish my waffle, listening to her talk about experiments we could do to test my power and hers.

Again my eyes wander to the TV, again my hands pause what they are doing. “Chloe,” I say, but she’s too busy speculating to hear. “Chloe,” I say again, louder.

“What?”

I point at the TV and she turns to look. It’s another newscast. The main view is focused on the twisted remains of a car. The closed captioning appearing at the bottom states:

_A car registered to Sean Prescott, a successful business man who lives in picturesque Arcadia Bay, was found this morning at the side of state highway six an hour west of Portland. Two bodies were in the vehicle, a man and a woman. The deceased are not identified at this time. Police were informed of the accident by an anonymous tip early this morning. They currently have two people of interest, Chloe Elizabeth Price, also a native of Arcadia Bay, and Maxine Caulfield, formerly of Arcadia Bay, now of Seattle. The girls are believed to also be connected to a mass shooting at a Sav-Mart in Arcadia Bay earlier this year. If you see, or know, either of these girls, please call the state police at 555-442-0776._

The scene switches to pictures, actual photographs, of Chloe and I. Thankfully they are of our original hair color. It doesn’t stop me from putting my hand to my face, shielding it from any onlookers. “We should leave,” I hiss. Chloe agrees and drops some money on the table. We stand and make our way to the door. A nervous energy is coursing through me. It takes all my will power not to run.

We’re back in the car and Chloe drives us away from the diner. Instead of our motel I see she’s taking us to the beach park.

Waves sweep onto a golden beach. A smile captures my face as I think about all the great memories we’ve had here over the years. The tension and new anxiety of being wanted for questioning about Sean’s accident begins to bleed away in the face of all this natural beauty. Turning off the car, Chloe gets out. I follow her as she climbs one of the rocks.

The breeze coming off the water ruffles her hair. She’s so damned pretty! There’s no way I can look at her and think about mysterious waves, storms, our parents, Sean, or any of that serious stuff. I let the weight of those thoughts disappear as I stand next to her.

“Such a great view,” she says, staring at the white crests coming in.

“Yeah,” I agree, staring at her profile.

Turning, with her cocky smile playing with her mouth, she shoves my shoulder playfully. “I meant the ocean, ding dong!”

My eyes turn to the ocean. The rolling waves crashing softly on the beach captivate me. There’s something else though, something tickling the back of my mind.

Stepping backward I look again at Chloe, the way she gazes at the waves. She’s still wearing her beanie, a dark complement to her black hair. She’s thinking of something, probably everything we’re going through, and I bet at any moment she’ll open her mouth with some insight or prompt.

“You’re doing it again.”

“Uh, doing what?”

“Taking a picture.”

My body freezes as I realize she’s correct. Turning to face me, black hair playing with her eyes, she says, “Take one of me, please. You never know when I’ll have black hair again.”

She does have a point, but at the same time…just the thought chills my blood. There’s a ball of something churning in my gut and I can almost hear his voice.

She reaches into my satchel, her body so close I feel its warmth about the breeze. Something hard with rounded corners is placed into my hands. I know what it is without looking. The faint whisper of his voice hisses in my mind.

Chloe catches me before I fall, holding me and rubbing my back. The camera is trapped between us, pressing into me. Slipping around to hold me up, she opens the camera. Ever so gently she repositions my hands on it. My eyes are unfocused seeing only the glare of months ago.

*Click*

The sound of the picture sends tremors through me and my knees collapse. Instead of falling to the stone, she pulls me back against herself and we lower to the rock below.

“I see definite improvement here.” Her confident words are whispered into my ear. The camera is removed from my hands and a small square pressed into them.

When my eyes focus I find the photo, already developed, looking up at me. There’s no escaping the look of terror on my face. The bruises from the other night are dark and ugly against my skin. She had angled the lens in a way to minimize my presence. Instead Chloe takes up most of the photo, eye closed in an exaggerated wink and a funny expression on her face.

It’s so Chloe that it pulls me the rest of the way into the present. My mouth turns a smile as I trace her picture.

“I see only a beautiful doofus.”

“Hmph. Doofus? You can do better than that hippy.”

“Maybe. I just don’t have the spark for it right now. Why do you say there’s improvement?”

“Well, for one thing you didn’t…well, let’s just say you were calmer this time.”

I think about what she said and can only agree. The terror and lack of control was still there, but I also remembered what was happening. Blurry vision is not the same as a black out. Touching the picture one more time I place it in my bag.

“What do you think about earlier, the news about Sean Prescott?”

She shifts beside me at my question. A small joint appears in her hand which she puts into her mouth and lights. Thankfully the ocean breeze pushes most of the smoke and smell away from me. I notice she doesn’t self-medicate every day, only when she’s stressed.

Moving to recline on the rock, she stares at the sky, wisps of smoke wafting from her. “If he’s actually dead, I guess we don’t have to worry anymore about that job offer.”

“Or Nathan coming after us.”

“That too.”

Taking a chance, I lie next her. My head lies on her arm, tucked into the nook below her shoulder. “Shit, Max.”

Alarmed, I say, “What?”

“You’re doing the same thing she did. Lying here like that.”

“That’s…ok?”

“Yeah, it’s hella ok.”

The joint appears before me then, held by her fingers. It would be so easy to take it and join her. For some reason I don’t, although part of me believes it would help with all the chaos in my mind.

“No thank you,” I say after a few moments.

“No worries, Max. She didn’t join me in this either.”

The clouds above roil around in different shapes as they slink across the sky. I consider her words, comparing me to the other Max. “Do you do that with everything I do?”

“What’s that?”

“Compare me…to her?”

Another plume of smoke rushes passed me to waft into the sky. “Yeah. I kind of do. Does that freak you out?”

“I don’t know. Considering what we have is probably the first of its kind, I guess it’s natural?”

She laughs, her pleasant laugh, at my words. “True there, Mystery Max.”

We descend into silence after that, listening to the waves and watching the sky. She finishes her smoke and stubs it out on the rock. I think about her and what we have. What do we have? She’s in love with a memory in my form.

I’m uncertain. My yearning for her over the last six months was guilt driven. She’s my friend, and I think always will be. That week in October pushed me in a direction just as confusing as when I was thirteen. But I’m broken and can barely offer her support and friendship. Each step forward comes with being dragged backwards.

The two Maxes in my head don’t help matters. One jealous but helpful. The other hateful and ever so harmful. It wouldn’t be fair to drag Chloe into something more than friendship with them present. Will they always be with me?

Yet I know she wants more, needs more, than friendship. I also know with all my being that if she asked for more, I would give her more.

“Doesn’t that one look like a puppy?”

Her words stir me from my reflection. A raised hand points to a cloud in the distance. I squint at it and watch. Sure enough, it looks like a puppy with long ears. “Yes, it does. It looks like it’s watching us.” She grunts at my answer.

“If Sean is really dead, do you think that means the police will find our parents?”

“No one knows they’re missing. If he died in the wreck they won’t have a reason to search his estate, just call it an accident and move on.”

Sitting up, I cross my legs and look at her. “What if we searched his estate?”

Her brow furrows and her mouth turns downward. She sits up, her expression changing to something happier. “Way to go, Max!” she finally says, “bustin’ into crime mode. I don’t know if I should be happy, or worried that I’m rubbing off on you.”

“Probably both,” I say as we get up. “I think we could search the house in the stillness. That would also give us an opportunity to test your limits.”

A searing pain lances through my side ripping a scream from me. A split-second later a loud sound bursts into the air. My legs buckle and I start falling! At the same time Chloe’s head snaps around, a hole opening on its side. A rush of memories crowd my mind as I see the light fade from her eyes.

No!

Instinctively I enter the stillness. The pain in my side hurts like nothing else but I push it away. Chloe is caught in partial fall and I tear my eyes away from her. Clamping a hand over my side, I close my eyes and switch to a rewind.

My eyes open to see her still laying on the rock. Her beautiful face unmarred. Immediately I switch to the stillness. Glancing down I see blood seeping from my fingers. Grimacing, I lean over and touch her.

She pops up, not noticing my change, and says, “Way to go, Max!”

“Ch-Chloe!”

Her body jerks as she hears me. “What! Oh, Max! You’re bleeding! What happened?”

Shaking my head, I give her a brief run-down, ending with, “Motel, now!”

It seems she notices we’re in the stillness because she doesn’t let go of me. She practically carries me to the car. The whole time I’m dividing my attention between maintaining the stillness, ignoring the searing pain, and looking for whoever shot us. When we reach the car I’ll have to restore time and I don’t want something else to happen.

On one of the distant dunes I see them, figures among the grass. Sun glints upon metal.

She starts to help me into the passenger side and I stop her with a shake of the head. “No, we can’t chance it. Climb in first and I’ll follow.”

“Max, no!”

“Yes, Chloe. We can’t leave the stillness! I’m not leaving you in regular time.”

Whatever is in my voice causes her to listen as she starts climbing into the car. I have to switch hands, putting my bloody one on her. She clambers over the center console, my hand switching to her arm. I practically fall in. Leaning over she pulls the door shut then struggles to get my seat belt fastened.

We’re leaving the lot when I let us re-enter normal time flow. The trip to the motel is a pain filled blur. I think I stopped bleeding but I don’t want to move my hand to check.

Leaning on Chloe we hobble upstairs to our room. Once inside I slump onto the bed, lying on the uninjured side. She rushes to our bags. A moment later she’s by me with water and pills. I hope they’re pain killers. Lifting me up so I can take them, I swallow the pills and hold onto her.

“We have to get your shirt off and see how bad it is. Are you sure you don’t want us to go to the hospital?”

Gritting my teeth, I say, “No. We go there and they’ll have to report it. No way for us to disguise it’s a gunshot. Can’t chance police finding us.” By the way she looks at me I know she’s aware of all this, but there’s concern underlying her every look and movement.

Kneeling beside me, Chloe looks up and says, “sorry to do this Max, I loved this shirt.” She removes my hand from the wound and with one quick jerk, rips the shirt open. I can’t bring myself to look and glance away.

“What’s the damage,” I manage to say through clenched teeth.

“That was really good…and really bad. Well, it’s not very deep. Looks like it grazed a rib. Took out quite the chunk of flush though. I’m guessing you’ll have a scar from this, your own battle wound!” I can’t believe she’s excited by that. No, actually I can.

“Makes me an official pirate then.”

I hear the breath catch in her at my words. “Shit, you remember that?”

“Chloe. I remember everything about you and us. Including the fact you get distracted easily.”

“Hey, you can’t blame me for getting distracted by a beauty like you.” Oh god, I think my face is burning!

She wads up my shirt and presses it to the wound. A sharp hiss of pain rushes from me at that. “I need to go get some alcohol and bandages.” She stands as she says that. “The little first aid kit we carry doesn’t have what we need.

I nod. “Ok, just make it quick!”

While she’s away I think about what happened. From her and Max’s description I’m guessing this is another attack by Nathan. If so then Sean was either lying, or Nathan has it out for me for some reason. How did they know we were at the beach?

By the time she returns I’ve arranged some towels on the pillows and am lying across them. The moment she sees me I know she’s not happy. “You shouldn’t have moved, Max!”

“It’s ok, really. I just wanted to make this easier for you.”

“Staying where-” She cuts off the words before they get too heated. Dropping the shopping bag on the bed she pulls out several packages, before leaning on her hands and lowering her head.

“I’m sorry,” she whispers and lifts her head. Her eyes glisten with unshed tears. “I-I’m scared.”

My heart melts a little at her words. Before I can do or say anything though she’s moved and begun taking the wadded shirt off my side. I grimace and groan as it pulls away. The cloth stuck to the wound. Pulling it free really hurts!

A hand rubs my shoulder and I hear Chloe say, “I’m sorry.” The next thing I know a searing pain hits me! It’s all I can do to not scream. Looking down I see she’s poured liquid on the wound.

“Good news is, it looks clean,” she says.

“Just make it quick,” I whimper. My feet are twitching and I’m holding tight to the sheets with my hand.

The pain makes it seem to take forever, but at last she has the wound cleaned and bandaged. While she cleans up the bed, I try to make myself more comfortable. She hurries to join me, helping to arrange the pillows into a kind of nest.

I blink to find the lights are off. Pain still throbs in my side, now dull and no longer burning. Rolling over with a wince, I find myself alone in the motel room. I must have fallen asleep, which is probably good after what happened. Concern for Chloe moves me to get out of bed.

Finding a somewhat clean shirt I learn just how difficult and painful it can be to put on a shirt with a side wound. Leaning against the wall a moment to catch my breath, I then make my way to the door.

She’s outside leaning against the rail, joint pinched between fingers. The sun still shines and I’m caught by the way it bathes her. Again I’m stunned by her beauty, leaving me standing in the door enjoying the sight of her. I find myself leaning against the doorjamb, a smile gracing my mouth as I look at her.

“You’re taking a picture again, aren’t you.”

“Yeah.” Did I…did I just sound like a school girl in love? Suddenly self-conscious I straighten, with a painful wince because I did it too fast, and smooth my shirt.

Stubbing out the joint, she flicks the ash from the tip and tucks it into her pocket. “Ain’t nothing taking Mad Max down,” she says as she turns to face me.

There’s something in her eyes as she walks toward me. Something both familiar and foreign. Her hand rests on my hip as she says, “It’s not every day a girl takes a bullet for me.” Leaning down she kisses me tenderly, just a gentle pressure and then she’s away looking into my eyes. There’s no hesitation, no uncertainty in her as she kisses me again, just as chaste.

While our previous kisses were spectacular, and welcome, this is something different. She’s fully vested in the act like she’s made up her mind about something. My hand catches hers as she steps away and I pull her back in for a third kiss. Like before there’s no hesitation. Her eyes shine on me as we step apart. The smile on her face wants to pull me in for a fourth kiss, but now I’m uncertain. What has changed?

Not knowing how to voice that in a way that doesn’t hurt, instead I decide to revisit a topic. “So…uh, do you still want to search the Prescott house?”

“Hell yes!” Pause. “But should you be doing that? I mean, you just got shot!”

Moving my arm and side a bit, and doing my best to hide the pain, I say, “I’ll be ok. It hurts, but nothing I can’t handle.” She looks dubious, but after a while shakes her head and we leave.

The Prescott house is about what I expected. Overly large and placed amid the trees, giving it the appearance of isolation even though other houses aren’t far away. The driveway is gated, but open, so we drive up to the house. As we approach I check for anything that might be a camera. I’m sure the Prescott’s can afford high tech spy stuff if they really want the cameras to be discrete since I don’t see anything that resembles a camera.

Once we’re at the door, I enter the stillness, wrap my sleeve around my hand, and try the handle. Amazingly, it’s unlocked! Oh the wonders of small town life. If we were in Seattle I’m sure it would locked and alarmed. Pushing the door open, I peek my head inside. No one is in the foyer.

Grabbing Chloe, I bring her with me into the house. Together we search it, going in every room, trying every door, drawer, and cupboard. We find nothing that can help us. Only two people are home, a woman that I presume is Mrs. Prescott, and someone that looks like he works there.

Since clocks don’t work in the stillness I have no idea how long we were in it. I estimate if we did the search in real time it would take an hour or more. On my own I can only maintain the stillness a few estimated minutes. With Chloe I don’t feel drained at all.

Which means, what else was happening the night of the storm? Something was pulling at me, even with Chloe. It’s like maintaining my hold in the presence of the storm required more control than normal.

“Well that was a waste of time,” she says as we exit the house.

“No it wasn’t!” My side aches from all the activity and my reply is sharper than I meant, “Sorry. Now we know for certain they aren’t here. That’s more than we knew before.”

“If you say so.”

Restoring us to normal time, we unclasp hands and get in the car. As she turns it around an idea occurs to me. The car is moving slowly, which should make this safe.

“Keep the car at this slow speed, Chloe.”

“What?” I don’t answer but I see that she keeps the car at the snail’s pace it was going. I enter the stillness. My body lurches forward in slow motion as physics wants to apply its laws to me. I push against the dashboard to stop myself. Ok, so if I freeze time while in motion my body wants to remain in motion. I wonder how different speeds would behave. That’s not what I want to test though.

As I ponder this, my hand lands on Chloe’s bringing her into the stillness with me. And the car. “Oh dog,” I cry as the car moves, “stop it! Stop the car!”

Chloe depresses the brake pedal. “What?! Did we hit something?”

My eyes look around the car wildly. My hand is still touching Chloe’s. I lift it and both she and the car exit the stillness. I’m touching the car with my body, but that doesn’t bring it into the stillness. To be sure, I touch the dashboard. Nothing. Touching her hand repeats the first experience.

“What’s going on, Max?”

“I-I don’t know, Chloe. Both you and the car are in the time freeze with me!”

“Shit! That’s totes cool! You are Super Max!”

Shaking my head in denial I say, “No, Chloe. I mean, yes, maybe, I don’t know. I don’t think I’m doing this. I think you are. I think you are…amplifying my ability.”


	11. Victoria

If I thought Chloe was excited before, that’s nothing compared to this. She is going on and on with expletive laden excitement. Already she’s concocting different experiments for us.

As she drives and gushes I take stock of myself. My side is still tender and painful from the bullet. The scratches and bites on my hand are scabbed over. The bruises on my face are no longer swollen, but are still a lovely purple and green. My eyes sit in dark wells. Chloe’s do as well. I’m going to freak out anyone who knows me. The look also adds to my disguise though, so likely they won’t recognize me.

It’s only when she makes a turn that I realize where she’s taking us. She driving to her house, or tries to. The street is blockaded. A couple of uniformed men and women guard the barricade. They don’t look like anyone from the Arcadia Bay police force. Muttering and glaring daggers Chloe turns the car around.

We pull into the parking lot for the motel, Chloe back to gushing about her ability. I think that’s just a facade though, considering where she just tried to go.

In the room, Chloe takes off her boots, tosses her keys onto the table and plops onto the bed. Setting my satchel down, I take off my shoes and join her. I try to hold her, like she often holds me, but it doesn’t quite work as well. I’m too short, or she’s too long.

She snorts and pushes my shoulder. “I know what you’re trying to do, Max.” Her voice is much softer than in the car.

“Is it working?”

Her fingers trace along my arm. “Yeah,” she whispers, “It’s working.” Her eyes close. “You’re too good to me, Max.” Looking at me, she pushes my arm off her, and opens hers. “Come here,” she whispers and there’s such a look to her I couldn’t refuse even if I wanted to.

Scooting down I snuggle into her arms, partially on her. She wraps me tight, holding me with my head on her chest. Her heart sounds in my ear, soothing as always. Her fingers play with my hair, stroking my scalp lightly. Before I know it I’m asleep.

* * *

“Fuck, you’re a waste!”

It’s so dark I don’t know if my eyes are open or closed. Suddenly I’m spun around and something slaps my face hard. Pain flashes through my sight and I cry out only to be stabbed by bright light searing my vision.

Before I can do, or think anything something kicks the back of my knee and I’m sent tumbling to the floor. My head is spinning and I’m struggling to get my hands and feet to move. As I’m rising, the side of my head explodes in red bursts of pain. My hands scramble at my head and I’m pushed onto my back.

My breath comes fast and shallow. I have to get out of here! I have to leave!

A weight presses onto my chest, stopping my attempt to rise and flee. It’s so quick my head bangs against the floor, sending more colored bursts of pain into me.

Escaping is my only thought as I try to rise, but the weight keeps me pinned. My arms are held as well. I cry out in more pain as my ankle bones are bashed together. Through the pain I feel something being wrapped around my ankles.

My sight is hazy, dimmed by the pain and blinded by the bright white lights. A shadow looms over me, blue eyes in a freckled face. “Your time is coming to an end, ‘Max Prime’,” the hateful Max sneers at me. “I hope you said goodbye to Chloe and Arcadia Bay. I’ll be sure they have a fitting end.”

“Wha-why are you doing this?”

She puts her face so close our noses are touching. “I’m repaying the kindness you showed me, Max.” Her words are a flaming fury on my skin. “I’m taking from you, what you took from me.”

“What did I take from you!”

She slaps me hard, twice, once on each cheek.

“Do you think you hurt now, Max? That’s not even the start of what I felt. You’ll know pain, deep lasting pain when I’m done with you!”

Hands grab my wrists and bring them together. She’s blocking my view, but as I feel tape being wound about them dread mixes with my panic. My eyes go wide as I feel the adhesive burn into my skin. I try to get loose but a voice, more dreadful than hers, shouts, “Stay still!”

“No.” The word squeezes out as a whisper.

“NO.” The word is a throaty denial, my head shaking back and forth.

“NO!” It bursts from me, wild in its panic.

Hateful Max moves aside revealing my own personal nightmare, Mark Jefferson wrapping duct tape around my wrists.

I can’t breath! I twist and turn, my body no longer my own as my mind seeks to reject his touch, his presence!

“I’ve moved beyond corruption, Max,” he says as he touches my face with a finger. “I think we’ll call this series, Terror.”

Rewind! It’s not working! Stillness! Where is it?!

The lights of his set are burning down on me. I can’t see anything, only searing white lights.

*Click* His first picture. A scream is building in me. I push it down. Don’t let it out! Don’t let them control it!

*Click* Another picture. “No,” I’m still saying it, over and over.

“Didn’t I tell you, Mark,” Max’s voice assaults my sanity and I curl into a ball. “That Max Prime would be so much better than that other Max.”

“You’re fucking up my shot, Max!” Mark’s growl sends a tight knot of terror into my core. Hands roughly pry me free, exposing my face to the camera. Wildly, I look around for help. The scream is pushing at me, trying to force its way free. How do I get out of this?

Max grabs a handful of my hair and twists my head up. Pain shoots up my neck, prickling my eyes with tears. *Click*

There’s a grunt and the noise of something falling. Max swears and drops my head. I see bright lights again after it hits the ground. Then there is a face in mine, bloodied, bruised. “Max,” the person cries, “Don’t let her control you! You are the one in control! Don’t-”

A shriek and a sickening thump of something hitting a body again and again cuts her off. Hateful Max returns, wiping blood from her face. “Ungrateful girl,” she mutters as she kneels down to peer into my wide eyes.

Her words, the other Max, Chloe’s Max, stick in my mind. They pierce the panic and terror ruling my body. Control. Control. I’m in control. How? Rewind doesn’t work!

“No,” my mouth is on auto-pilot as my mind tries to deny what is happening. Chloe’s Max was beaten, almost unrecognizable.

Breathing is lost to me as I see Mark kneel in front of me, his camera ready for another take. Hateful Max moves aside. “Maybe we should let her see the body,” she gloats.

Control. I’m in control.

*Click* Another picture. Wake up. This is a dream Max! Wake up!

My skin crawls each time Mark touches me. I want to wash those areas with acid to remove the defilement. Again and again he touches me and I flinch. He laughs. Max laughs. I cry.

Wake up. Wake up, damn you, Max! This isn’t real!

He touches me again. My body jerks away. He’s touching my legs, my arms, trying to position me. I cry out, choked and shrill, at each touch. My bound legs kick him away. Get away! Get away!

The light fades, but I’m still bound, wrapped shoulder to foot. He’s touching me, all over!

“No.” My foot lashes out, breaking free! “No!” Over and over I turn now. Roll away! Suddenly I’m falling and a voice calls my name.

I slam into something hard and flat. Air rushes from my lungs in a whoosh. A sharp pain lances my side forcing a cry of pain. Above me a silhouette appears and I hear my name again. “No!” My voice is mine again and I scream the word into his face. “Get away from me!”

My legs and arms are free but something still restrains me. I have to get away! I have to break free! I have to wake up!

Light flares into existence again, different, yellow. “Max?” I stop my struggling when a blue head pops into my vision. “C-Chloe.” Her name spills from my lips in a hesitant croak. She’s beside me now, hand on my shoulder. I reach for her, hands clutching her clothes to pull her close. Her name continues to tumble from me, a soothing mantra, my lifeline.

“Oh god! Are you ok? Can you…can you talk about it?” My head shakes a violent denial. Her eyes search mine a few minutes, before saying, “Yes, you need to tell me about it.” My head is still shaking, my mouth repeating her name.

She helps me to my feet, the sheets and blanket tumbling from me. We’re still fully clothed. Why do I notice that?

She has me on the bed now, leaning against the headboard. Dumping the sheets and blanket in a pile on the bed she goes through our stuff until she finds a fresh bottle of water. Jumping on the bed next to me, she pulls me against her and hands me the bottle.

“Drink,” she orders me. Without a word I open the bottle and take a sip. Then another. Pretty soon I’ve emptied the entire bottle.

It crinkles in my hands as I delay Chloe’s request. The dream, or nightmare, hangs fresh in front of me. I don’t want to give it new life by speaking about it.

Her hands close over mine. She’s trying to comfort me, give me strength. But it’s so hard. I don’t want to think about…him! A ragged breath escapes as panic starts grabbing my chest and throat. Her hands are warm. I focus on them, the way they wrap around mine, the way our two hands fit together.

“It was…the hateful Max.” My legs tense, preparing to run, as the panic seeps into the rest of my body. Her fingers are so slender, elegant.

“She beat me.” My heart is racing, its beat so loud surely the guests in the next room can hear it. Chloe’s nails are chipped, worn, so like her.

“She brought…Him.” I can’t-I must not say his name! My skin crawls, like it’s alive. My legs twitch. Something is under my skin, squirming, wanting to be free. Her skin is so soft.

“He-He-” Air! I need air! She’s in front of me, speaking words I can’t hear. I have to escape!, I need a place where he can’t find me! Hands cup my face. The light dims as Chloe leans her head against mine.

“That’s enough, Max! I’m sorry! I’m sorry!” Her voice, it’s so sad and worried. Laughter resounds in my head, wicked and gleeful. My eyes flit wildly between hers.

She tosses the empty bottle to the floor then helps me lie down. With a yank she pulls apart the sheet and blanket pile into passable cover. The light goes out and she holds me to her again, my head against her heart. Her fingers stroke my hair again. “I’m sorry I pushed you.” Her whispered apology wraps itself with my heart. She didn’t want to hurt me, she wanted to help. Sleep is long in coming, but it does come.

  


Chloe awakens me in the morning with some doughnuts and coffee from the motel lobby. “Eat up, Mad Max, we’ve a big morning ahead of us!” She’s in a good mood. What is she planning now?

The memories of last night taint the sweet donuts, making them sour in my mouth. Still, I force myself to eat them, for Chloe if for no other reason.

After the quick breakfast, shower, and clean clothes, we are in the car. Chloe brought a doughnut with her. She switches the playlist to mymusic and pulls out of the parking lot. I’m so amazed she can drive a stick shift with food in one hand, and my hand holding her other.

The morning streets of Arcadia Bay puts me in a contemplative mood. Can we save everyone again? Do I even want to consider that? Where are David and our parents? Are they still alive? Will I ever be whole? How long will those Max’s be in my head? Will I ever like myself?

So engrossed am I in my thoughts that I fail to realize where Chloe is taking us until we park. American Rust. My eyebrows raise in a question. Chloe gets out of the car and starts poking around. Is now really the time to be here? We should be doing something about that storm, and our parents.

“Come on, Max!” Her invitation, faint through the windows, doesn’t move me. Undeterred, she comes to my side of the car and opens the door. “You are not staying in there!” Grabbing my hands, she hauls me out of the car.

“Now, Maxaroon, you’ve had a hell of a couple of days. Let’s say we take some of your emotion and turn it into art!”

Cocking my eyebrow at her I say, “Really, Chloe? Art? And what’s with that name, ‘Maxaroon’?”

Undeterred by my mood she does something I don’t expect. She ducks down and hoists me onto her shoulders! A shriek escapes my lips, more at the suddenness of it than fear. She spins me around, laughing the entire time, then sprints toward one of the paths between mounds of junk. I’m pounding her back with my fists, but her laughs get louder and she keeps running. The jostling sends blasts of pain through my side causing painful grunts amid my laughter.

She plants me on the ground, a little out of breath. I’m glaring at her and she’s eating it up with one of her grins. “Proper care of your Max must include senseless fun and hilarity.” She sounds like she’s reading instructions from a manual.

“It’s a shitty situation,” she says, “it’s a good thing we are well prepared.” Her arms gesture around us. Finally, I let my gaze move away from her. And immediately begin laughing. She planted me in a field of old toilets.

“Tickle attack,” she yells from behind. Her fingers wriggle up my uninjured side, intensifying my laughter. “Oh! That hurts!” Clamping my arm to my side I whirl around, but she’s gone. I see her dodge behind a mound of cars and I run in that direction.

She’s faster than me, always has been with those long legs of hers. I decide to cheat and enter the stillness. “Tickle attack,” I yell as I restore time and tickle her sides.

“Unfair advantage,” she gasps between laughs. Turning quickly she captures my hands, pulling me against her. Before I can do anything her lips are on mine, her hands pulling my arms behind me. I freeze time, forgetting that she can now enter the stillness with me. Her hands keep moving. Breaking away before she can put me in a hold I can’t get out of, I restore time and laugh.

Whatever possessed Chloe to take me here is certainly working. We spend much of the morning playing, something I think I haven’t really done since I was 13 and still living here. At last I fall to the ground, tired, hungry, thirsty, sweaty, and in pain, but feeling better than I have in days.

Chloe flops next to me in a similar state. Our fingers entwine as we stare at the sky. “Thanks,” I breath, “I think that is something we both needed.” She doesn’t respond, just stares at the sky.

“Do you think we’ll find them?” I don’t ask who she means.

“I have to think we will, Chloe. If Sean had them, he put them someplace safe. He called them collateral. That tells me he intends to keep them safe and cared for.”

Her fingers tighten on mine. “I keep thinking about Rachel,” she whispers. Being here, my mind had drawn that parallel also, but I didn’t want to bring it up. With it out in the open, I want to acknowledge it.

“Tell me about her, please?”

She rolls on her side to look at me, our hands still together. Brow wrinkled she asks, “Are you sure Max? I mean, talking about former love interests seldom leads to anything good.”

Looking at her I study her face. Concern is writ in her brow, but there is something different in her eyes. Pain. Loss. Love. She’s not over Rachel. It doesn’t make me mad or jealous…just deficient. Those other feelings died in October when I chose differently.

My fingers trace a line down her jaw, savoring the smoothness of her skin. Keeping my eyes focused on hers I say, “yes, tell me. Tell me about how you first met, about how she helped you…deal with me abandoning you.”

Her head shakes and she protests, “it wasn’t like that-”

“Yes it was,” I interrupted softly, “there’s no taking that back, Chloe. Tell me about that time, how she helped you. Tell me how she became your angel.”

“You are so fucking amazing,” Chloe whispers. And she proceeds to tell me. The way Chloe’s eyes light up when describing that first night at the Firewalk concert, it touches me. She tells me of trying to help Rachel deal with betrayal in her own family.

I feel her confusion as Chloe realizes she has different, new feelings for Rachel. Honestly, I also feel hurt because I believe Chloe and I had started having those feelings for each other our last year together, and I had wasted them. I keep that to myself, letting my hurt be expressed in soothing reassurance for Chloe.

She talks of more betrayal, chaos in both families, and how the two girls stuck together through it all. It’s painful to hear, knowing I caused a great deal of the pain, even though she denies it. At the same time, to see Chloe speak with such joy about Rachel is oddly satisfying. I think the old me, the me of last October, would not feel this way.

Chloe’s crying now as she speaks. She felt such passion and love for Rachel and it seems so one-sided looking back. Especially with the knowledge that Rachel was forming relationships with Frank and Jefferson without telling Chloe. Why Rachel did that will forever be lost to time.

Scooting up I pull Chloe to me, like she often does to me. I tuck her head below my chin and hold her. She’ll never forget Rachel, just like I will never forget Kate. That’s not wrong or bad. It means we’re human and we feel, and that’s ok.

I don’t say anything, I just hold her. When did she last speak of Rachel so openly? She told me she had mourned over Rachel last October and that her Max had helped her. Was that the only time, or did she also speak to her therapist? A one time event is not enough to cope with losing someone who made such an impact on your life. Someone you spent years with. You never get over that, not really.

Aware that her tears have stopped, I kiss the top of her head. She peers up at me. “You are fucking amazing, Super Max,” she repeats her earlier words, “Thank you for asking about her.” I smile at her, not certain what words are right. “You’re welcome.” Is what I settle on.

We stay that way until the sun passes zenith and begins its descent. Her fingers tug on mine. “Ready for lunch?”

“I am so ready to eat right now. Two donuts and coffee makes for a hungry Max.”

We head back toward town, deciding to get something at a drive-thru. We’re just exiting onto the street, bags of food at my feet when my phone rings. Well it vibrates, sending a jarring sensation up my backside. Fishing it from my pocket I check the screen: Victoria Chase. That is unexpected. Clicking to answer, I put her on speakerphone.

“Hey, Vic!” I keep my tone neutral, but hopeful.

“God I can’t believe I’m doing this.” Her words are so soft I’m sure we’re not meant to hear that.

“Hi, Max.” Now her voice is her characteristic cutting manner. “So I’ve been thinking of your offer and want to take you up on it.”

Offer? “Y-you mean talk?”

“Yes.”

Chloe opens her mouth to speak and I shake my head vigorously.“We’re there for you, Victoria. When and where?”

“‘We’,” she echoes. “You’re still with that dropout? Fine come to my dorm room. We can talk when you get here. Just…goodbye.” The connection ends.

Odd. Eyebrows raised I look at Chloe. “We never hit it off in school. I think she was jealous of my friendship with Rachel,” she says by way of explanation. “It didn’t get any better when Max and I started seeing each other.”

  


Activating the turn indicator, she changes direction toward Blackwell. The drive there is uneventful and we eat on the way. Weird feelings swirl within me. Only a few days ago I was there with Kate. Yet in this timeline it has been some four months. What history am I walking into?

Chloe pulls into the lot, parking close to the entrance. We both get out of the car and stand, looking at the campus. Students and some faculty are already milling around. Spring break ended, what? Two weeks ago? I don’t really want to talk to anyone. Chloe comes around the car to take my hand and we head off into the campus.

We get some strange looks but none of familiarity. I’m hoping that means our dyed hair is enough to throw people off. A couple of guys whistle at us and make sexist remarks, the cretins. We walk through the courtyard, enter the dorm and head to the second floor. It feels weird coming in here. Not much is different in this timeline, versus the one I just left. That is until we enter the second floor.

The collection of messages, candles, and other things in front of Kate’s door hits me like a blast of cold water to the face. I stop so suddenly Chloe runs into me, almost knocking me over. My mind projects the nightmare from the first night. Kate is kneeling in front of the shrine, necklace with cross draped over her hands.

_You need more reminders of the misery you bring to others._

Kate turns and looks at me with her dead eyes. “How could you let me die, Max?” Her words, spoken in a horrible dream are stirred up in my mind. My eyes close to blot out the scene. Chloe’s hand in mine is warm, soft, reassuring. Her arm wraps around my shoulders, helping me move forward.

“Why didn’t you save me, Max?” The nightmare words haunt me, surround my heart and pummel it. I feel my body trembling as Chloe leads me on. I can’t open my eyes, I won’t open my eyes!

_“Why didn’t you save me, Max?” Because you don’t save! You ruin!_

We stop and I hear Chloe knock. Victoria’s room is still next to Kate’s. How painful must that be for her, to see that shrine every day?

The door opens and Victoria invites us in. Chloe pulls me after her. “What’s the matter with her?” Victoria’s voice is a mixture of her old self and new. “Seeing Kate’s shrine messed her up.” Chloe’s response is simple, her voice warm. I don’t open my eyes until I’m confident we are no longer in the hall.

Victoria’s room matches her. Clothes strewn about, covered windows casting the room into darkness. I shudder as I think how reminiscent the room is to Kate’s before she jumped. Victoria has largely stopped caring and it shows.

_Victoria’s in shit-land because of you!_

Chloe leads me to the couch, clears a spot and we seat ourselves. Closing the door, Victoria walks over and seats herself on the floor. I’m a little uncomfortable sitting above her. Following her lead I slide down until I’m seated on the floor as well, soon joined by Chloe.

Victoria stares at her hands. Her nails are not polished and trimmed. They are ragged and chipped, with flecks of gloss. Her hands can’t sit still, constantly moving. Something urges me to reach out and hold her hands, but I’m uncertain. It’s too forward and we aren’t friends, not yet anyway.

_Nor ever!_

When she speaks, her words are so low I can barely hear them. “You were right to hate me, Max. I killed Kate-”

“Vic,” I interrupt her. She looks at me and her face is so twisted, her eyes so sharp I stop. “No!” I hear in her voice a familiar sound: self-loathing.

“I’m the one who took that fucking video, Max! I put it online! I put the link everywhere! It may as well have been my hands that pushed her off the the roof! And Nathan-” Her voice catches here and she can’t continue. Her face falls into her hands.

_You could really learn from her how to bring people down._

Unable to resist, my hand reaches out to touch her. She jerks her head up at my touch. She’s not crying, but her eyes are still sharp and her face hard. “Nathan was like a brother to me,” her words a hiss between clenched teeth. “I can’t believe he did…” her eyes stray to Chloe. “I’m so sorry, Chloe.”

Chloe’s eyes are narrowed and her own jaw clenched. Yet all she says is, “Yeah. I know you weren’t part of what he and Jeffershit were doing.” It’s a hoarse dismissal, but better than what I expected.

My hand takes Chloe’s and clenches it reassuringly. “Honestly, if I hadn’t tried to hustle him, I wouldn’t have ended up in his room.”

“Jeffershit,” Vic mutters. “He’s more at the root of Nathan’s behavior than you know.” A voice mail comes to mind at her words, a voice shaken, afraid. Nathan telling me that Jefferson was coming after him.

“Why are you telling us this,” Chloe asks, ever the direct one.

Victoria looks again at her hands. She is silent so long I wonder if she forgot what Chloe asked. “What do you see…when you look at me? At my…place?” Her words are soft again, the edge gone.

“I see Kate just before…” I can’t complete that sentence. Just the thought causes a deep ache.

She nods her head. “I…need help.”

“How can we help you?”

“Yesterday…at Kate’s grave you said I should stop blaming myself for Kate’s death.” She pauses again for a long time, so long that I reach out and take one of her hands in mine. A weird look crosses her face, but she doesn’t pull away.

“I will never stop blaming myself for her death.”

“I will never stop blaming myself for her death either,” I whisper.

She looks at me sharply. “Then why did you tell me that yesterday?” Her words are bitter.

Taking a breath I say, “what I meant is, no matter how much it hurts to admit, it was her choice. We…contributed to it, but neither of us alone are responsible for it. It’s more of a…shared responsibility. You can’t take this solely on your shoulders.”

“How the hell does that help, Max!”

“Because it means…we’re not alone?”

“You aren’t.” Her words are still bitter. She pointedly looks at Chloe. “You have someone to help you through all your shit.”

My mind thinks furiously about who Victoria’s friends are. “What about…Courtney or Taylor? Or your parents?”

“No one wanted to be around me after Nathan was arrested. Guilt by association. Taylor tried…but I was too much for her. And my parents? They only have time for their art gallery.”

I look at Chloe, but she’s looking at her shoes. “Well,” I began, “I’m here and Chloe’s here.”

Her face becomes inscrutable and she says, “Right now you’re here. What about at 1 AM when I wake up because all I can see in my dreams is Kate jumping off the roof? Do you know I fucking recorded that? What was I thinking?”

Squeezing her hand I say, “Then you call me. You aren’t the only one with nightmares from that, Vic.” I pause wondering whether I should tell her. “The other night…,” I’m so hesitant. It’s one thing to share this with Chloe. Telling Victoria feels like I’m exposing my soul to a stranger, it’s so personal, so intimate.

“Let me tell you about my nightmares,” I begin again. I tell her about the nightmare I had with the undead Kate. Leaving out a few details, such as my personal torturer, I tell her about the other dream as well.

_You should arrange for Vic to join Kate in your dreams._

Again squeezing her hand, I say, “You’re not alone in this, Victoria. You’re right, I have Chloe. She’s been my strength, my shield in so much of this. I can’t offer you that, but I can offer friendship.”

It’s like something in her melts. One moment Victoria is on edge, tense, her features sharp as a knife, the bitch queen bee personified. The next moment she’s like she was at Kate’s grave: defeated, worn, vulnerable. “Ok,” she whispers.

Honestly, I half-expected her to reject this offer as not enough. Hearing her accept surprises me. But not as much as what happens next. “Me too,” Chloe says, and takes Victoria’s other hand in hers.

“What,” Chloe says to me in response to the surprised looks on our faces. “I know what it’s like when no one is there for you. I’m not saying I want to be besties with her, especially after the shit she pulled with Rachel and I. That doesn’t mean I want her dead or something.”

No matter. Her actions and words bring a warmth to my heart, causing my face to beam.

Looking at Victoria I say, “Now, let’s say we let you get changed and we grab some food, do something together?” Timidly Victoria nods and we rise. Chloe says, “We’ll be across the hall in Max’s room. Just knock when you’re ready.” Victoria gives a weak smile.

“I better not hear any moaning from over there while I’m changing!” Well, she seems better already. My face is really warm from her comment and I stammer out some gibberish. Chloe just gives a lopsided grin and laughs.

Quickly, I exit Victoria’s room. I playfully slap Chloe on the shoulder as the door closes. “You’re so bad,” I protest.

“You ain’t seen nothing, my little hipster waif,” she says as she backs me against the wall. I’m very aware we are in the hallway, which doesn’t stop Chloe. She hooks a hand on my waist and pulls me tight against her. “Let me show you how bad I can be!”

Laughing at her behavior, I duck away from her and run over to my room and open the door. Once we are in the room she tackles me to my bed. I go down with a shriek of pained laughter. “I’m an idiot,” Chloe exclaims, “God! Did I tear your wound open?”

She rolls off me and helps pull up my shirt. The bandage is still in place, with some blood seeped through. “We should change that when we get back to the motel,” I say as she double checks the taping.

Sighing she pulls my shirt down and says, “Well, that’s one trip through the hall without you going all weeping angel on me.”

My brow furrows as I try to figure out what she means. Weeping angel? Realization hits. “Wait, you did that just so I wouldn’t see Kate’s shrine?”

She does a one shoulder shrug. “Part of it! The rest I just wanted to see you blush more, Max. You’re hella cute when you’re embarrassed and flustered!”

“You beast!” I slap her hands away. “Now help me up!”

“Are you going to freak out being here?” Her face is smiling but her voice is concerned.

Lifting my hands to her I shake my head no. Nodding, but looking unconvinced, she stands and grabs my hands. She pulls me to my feet and I straighten my clothes.

My room looks the same, and different. None of Kate’s stuff is in here. Sadness fills me as I walk around the small space. It is very strange to think that only a short while ago she and I sat here making the plan for my return. Chloe sits on the couch, right where Kate sat.

I trace lines through the dust with my finger. It’s odd what Chloe and the other Max left behind when they fled. Books and CDs are understandable, but why did they leave my computer here?

Powering it on, I check my email. There are lots of messages from Warren, Dana, Juliet, and others, even Brooke. Mixed amongst them are plenty from my parents as well. Curious I click on a few. It’s what I expect. Variations of “where are you?” and “we miss you, please call us.” I close my email and power off the computer. Grabbing the power cord, I put it and the laptop into my bag.

I should grab some more of my clothes as well. Crossing to the closet I start going through them. Picking a few, I roll them up and place them in my bag. A knock, almost a poundings sounds on my door. Chloe leaps to her feet, saying, “Well, that’s our signal.”

“That doesn’t sound like Victoria,” I say. She’s already opening the door and I hear swearing, loud and harsh.I turn as I hear both male and female voices. David stands in the doorway. His face is dark and he’s trying to push his way into the room. Chloe tries her best to prevent him, but his greater weight is too much.

She stumbles to the ground as he finally steps into the room. “You aren’t welcome here,” I say to him as I hurry to Chloe’s side.

“You need to come with me,” he growls as he lays a hand on my shoulder. I shrug it off and say, “Leave us alone!” He grabs me again, only this time he grabs my shirt and hauls me to my feet. Chloe comes up with me, holding onto my other arm.

“Leave her alone,” she spits into David’s face. “Where’s Joyce?”

“With them,” he shouts and his eyes have a strange look to them. “She’s gone!” His voice is loud and strangled and filled with emotions I can’t identify. “And they’ll…they’ll…” he sputters to an end and shakes my shoulder. Pain flares in my head and side.

“They’ll what?” Chloe’s prying at his hand, trying to free me.

“They just want you to work for them! Is that so hard?” He’s almost begging as he says this.

With Chloe’s help I manage to spin out of his grasp. David is so emotional, filled with anger and fear, that he’s not thinking clearly. I wonder what else is going on in his mind. I’m scared, for all of us.

“What will they do to my mom?” Chloe isn’t backing down. She gets right into his face as she shouts that.

He ignores her, looking instead at me. “You. You’re coming with me.” He pushes past Chloe towards me.

It all happens so fast. Chloe tries to get between us. I’m stepping backwards and his arm comes up to push her aside. But they’re moving too fast or I’m too slow or David’s stronger than he realizes, because his fast swinging arm connects with my head instead of Chloe.

Colored motes flare to life in my vision, red and yellow and blue. There’s the sensation of falling as pain shoots through my head. I think I’m crying out, but I don’t know. There are some other sounds I dimly hear. Then I hit the floor and I hear and feel nothing but pain.

All I can do is lie there, panting from the pain. The pain is all I am. There are hands on me, on my shoulders, on my arms, trying to help me. My vision clears and I see Chloe kneeling in front of me. Her hands are trying to help me. Beyond her I see David, a look of horror on his face.

“Chloe,” I say, my thoughts still a jumble.

“It’s ok,” she whispers. “You…you took him out.”

“What?” My thoughts are trying to make sense of everything, but all I can think of is the pain. I barely notice a trickle of blood from her nose.

“It was an accident,” she says, “when he hit you, it shook him so bad I was able to get him to calm down.”

I know those are words she’s speaking, but they don’t make sense.

David is backed against the wall, looking at us. “I…I’m sorry,” he says and you can hear it in his voice. “I didn’t mean to hurt you. They told me…they showed me what they would do to Joyce if I didn’t take you to them.”

His face is in his hands now and his body is wracked by sobs. “I let them use me,” he says, muffled by his hands. “I let them use me!” His last words are filled with anger. He rises from his crouch.

“I’m sorry,” he says again. “My words can’t make this right. But I’m going to do what I should have done.” With face blazing with controlled anger, he leaves the room.

Chloe helps me to the couch. Her fingers lightly run over my face. I focus on that thin stream of blood trickling from her nose. “That’s twice in two days you’ve been hurt because of me, Max. My hero.”

My fingers trace up her jaw to her upper lip. “This was an accident. I will never stop trying to keep you safe. Let me fix this for you,” I whisper. Her fingers grab my hand.

“Are you offering to rewind so I’m not hurt, but you are?”

I nod, wincing as pain lances my head.

“Not a chance. You are just as important as me. No way am I letting you bear these battle wounds alone.”

Her words take all thought from my mind as their meaning sinks in. Bowing my head I look at my hand in hers. Thoughts start forming again, words to tell her but they are dashed aside by a throb of pain.

“Uh,” I groan. “Advil, or something, please.”

The pills are sliding down my throat when Victoria enters. In all the chaos I totally forgot we were taking her to eat.

“What happened here?”

The room is now slightly in disarray. My satchel is on the floor. I didn’t even notice it come off my shoulder when I fell. The blanket on my bed is partly pulled off.

“I uh…tripped and fell.” Chloe offers the explanation very matter-of-fact.

“Then why does Max have the Advil?”

“Headache.”

She looks at us through slitted eyes for several moments. “And it has nothing to do with David Madsen? I saw him at the end of the hall just now.”

Neither of us answer her question. Her lips press together in a line and a small wrinkle appears between her eyebrows. Finally she nods. “Ok.” Weird. Chloe gives me a look as we exit my room. I notice that she’s standing in a way to block my view of Kate’s room.

We exit the dorm and head to the parking lot. More people notice us this time, or rather they notice Victoria. There are looks of surprise, and finally looks of recognition. We walk passed everyone, even those who try to talk to us.

My mind is a whirl with today’s events. So many things happen when I’m with Chloe, just like last October. It’s like it never stops. My body is in pain and tensed, and my eyes rove about, trying to study everything. Only when we are in the car do I relax. I let out a breath and my body relaxes.

Chloe starts the car, makes some comment I don’t hear, and heads off campus.


	12. Nathan

“Where are you taking us?”

“Two Whales, where else?”

I turn to look at Victoria, trying to hide the painful wince it causes. “Is the diner ok?”

She nods. “It beats many of the other places in town. Besides Arcadia Bay is too small for a Starbucks or something better.”

In quick time we’re at the diner. Most of the booths are full so we are seated in the corner booth. As I slide into it I distinctly hear Frank say, “I was eating those beans!” I shake my head, wondering where Frank is now.

It takes some coaching, patience, and deflection of our own, but we eventually get Victoria to open up. The arrest of Jefferson and Nathan did destroy her world. The fact that she flung herself at Mark still freaks her out. My memories of the other timeline tell me she was very close to being part of his portfolio, but no need for her to know that. Add Kate’s death to all that and she really needs help.

Only there wasn’t anyone to help her. Her bitter and mean disposition kept most people away in the first place. The exposure of what Nathan was doing as part of the Vortex Club threw suspicion on everything she did. That stress wore at the tenuous friendship she had with Courtney and Taylor. Courtney left first, seeking someone else to make her popular. Finally, after one last heated outburst, Taylor gave up as well.

Our meal comes in the middle of the story, disrupting the thread. It takes some time, after food and drink, to restart it.

Around the time Max and Chloe left Arcadia Bay is when Victoria started visiting Kate’s grave. Taking care of the grave site soothed her a little, but couldn’t remove the guilt. With the loss of friends, being under constant suspicion, the lack of care by her parents, and heavy guilt for her involvement with Kate, she went downhill rapidly, mentally and emotionally. The school guidance counselor tried to help but was ineffective. Her grades were slipping too.

Through the conversation I begin to wonder how close Victoria is to considering suicide. And not for the first time it makes me think of the dark period for Chloe, after William died and I left, and before Rachel came into the picture. The problem for Victoria is all this is happening in such a compressed window of time, and no one is stepping up to be her friend. There’s no angel on the horizon for her, like there was for Chloe. Like there was for me.

My hand reaches out on its own and gently wraps around Victoria’s. She flinches at my touch but doesn’t pull away. “I’m so sorry no one was there for you, Vic.” My mouth is pulled into a slight frown, weighed down by her story. “I want to be there for you, as much as I can.”

She nods at my words, finishing her meal. “Thanks, Max. I’ll keep that in mind.”

“How’s Nathan doing? You said he’s doing better after the arrest?” Chloe asking about Nathan? Whateverthefuck!

Victoria has one eyebrow raised and mouth cocked to the side, staring at Chloe. “Why do you care?” The unfriendly tone of her voice underscores the doubt she wears.

“Let me cut the shit, Vic,” Chloe says, “Nathan may be in custody, or whatever, but he’s mixed up in some shit. You already know about Jeffershit. Did you know that Nathan was going to kill me last October?”

Victoria chokes on her drink, spitting out soda and dropping the cup. Hurriedly, I grab some napkins to wipe up the liquid, shooting looks at Chloe. “Are you sure,” I start to say, but Chloe interrupts.

“I’m sure, Max. Vic is leveling with us. I’m going to level with her.”

“What are you getting at, Price?” Victoria is trying to wipe soda off her sweater. There’s definitely another cleaning bill in its future.

“Just what I said. Nathan is mixed up in something more than Jeffershit. It involves his dad. We don’t know what it is, but they think we do. Someone sent some guys to get us. That’s why we had to leave town.”

There’s no expression on Victoria’s face now. “Why do you think Nathan or his dad are involved? Because of what happened in the bathroom?” Her voice is hard. It seems like she’s still loyal to Nathan, despite what happened.

“Because the guys that came after us said Nathan sent them,” I say, tossing aside the sodden napkins.

Victoria’s mouth forms an O and her features relax. Suddenly her brow wrinkles and her head tilts up. “Are you saying…,” She begins, her voice soft and halting, “You left in January, right?”

“Yeah,” I say, and Chloe nods. She starts squirming next to me.

“There was that murder in the Sav-Mart parking lot in December. Witnesses placed two girls and an old pickup at the scene. You were the two girls weren’t you?”

Chloe raises her hands, palms out. “We did not do that,” she protests.

“But it was you two in the parking lot?”

Chloe and I exchange glances, then nod in unison. I’m already thinking I should rewind this. I don’t know how we went from helping Victoria to this.

Her hands are picking at a napkin, tearing it into thin shreds. I can’t read her face as she stares out the window. “Yesterday is the first time I’ve seen you in months,” Victoria speaks sotto voce. “Within 24 hours a storm destroys Chloe’s house and her parents disappear.”

“Parent and step-douche,” Chloe growls. Victoria gives her a “what do I care” look.

Her gaze turns to both of us. There’s no expression on her face now, but her voice drips with anger. “If you help Nathan, I’ll tell you where he is, and how to see him.”

Help him? Chloe saves me the trouble of voicing that doubt. “You’re fucking kidding me. Help the guy that’s tried to kill me, that killed-” The words hiss across the table at Victoria.

“Help him how?”

Ignoring Chloe, she looks directly at me. “Help him get away from his family. The few weeks he was in custody, he actually started getting better. Once his dad took him out of custody, he got worse.”

Her fingers are still shredding the napkin, making a small pile of paper strips on the table. She looks down, studying the collection. “You may not care, but he’s really the only friend I have left.”

Chloe is in the midst of slamming her fist on the table when I interrupt her. “She doesn’t know, Chloe.” Her hand stops in mid-air.

“Know?” Chloe has a questioning look on her face.

“Know?” Victoria’s face too is wondering.

Looking at both of them, I say, “Yesterday morning a car registered to Sean Prescott was in a wreck. Two people were in the car, a man and a woman. They haven’t been identified yet.” Victoria’s eyebrows do an amazing climb up her face as I speak.

“You mean-?”

“He may already be free of his dad’s influence.” She looks positively happy about this news. “However…” I shoot a glance at Chloe, “we think Nathan is still after us.”

“If his dad is dead, why would he be after you?”

Shrugging I say, “he’s the only one that can answer that.”

A loud noise jerks my attention away. Chloe has shoved her plates away and stood. “I need to…go outside and piss off other people.” She storms out of the diner, slamming the door behind her. I watch her stalk into the parking lot, kicking everything in her way.

“What’s with-”

I cut off Victoria. “That’s her way of letting us talk about Nathan without her getting in your face, Victoria.”

For the second time her lips form a silent O. I don’t know what Chloe intended when she started asking about Nathan, but I began to have my own thoughts. There was a marked difference between how Sean and Nathan tried to contact me.

“Is there a way for us to contact him?”

At my words, Victoria smiles, a genuine smile that lights up her face. “I think so, but I’ll need some time to verify. Once I’ve confirmed, we can go see him.”

We. Immediately my head starts shaking. “No, Victoria. You can’t get involved in this.”

“Don’t tell me what I can and can’t do, Maxine.”

Ouch. “People have already died, Victoria. I just…”

“Look, it’s sweet that you’re trying to protect me. Let me worry about myself. Besides, without me you’ll never get in to see Nathan.”

I study her. The set of her brow, the way she leans toward me, the way her hands clench the table. Slowly I nod my head. “Ok, Victoria. What do we have to do?”

“Pick me up tomorrow morning. It’s too late to try to get to him today. 9 AM.”

With that agreed, I pay the bill, careful to keep the ‘Pricefield Enterprises’ name on the card hidden from her.

As we walk to the car, Victoria asks, “What happened to the truck? And how do you afford that car?”

I have time control powers and played the stock market to amass a fortune. I’m really good at cards. “You’ll have to ask Chloe.”

It’s a quiet drive back to the campus. Victoria calls out, “See you in the morning, girls,” as she exits the car. Chloe shoots me a look as the door shuts, but she doesn’t say anything as we drive back to the motel.

Back in our room, she’s still not talking, or looking at me. She just sits on the bed, knees propped and staring at the wall. “What’s eating you, Chloe?” I sit in one of the uncomfortable chairs in the room as I ask the question. Wow, these chairs are painful.

“Well…it’s not you.” My hands go to my cheeks. Damn they’re hot!

“What then?”

Her fingers pick at a hole in her jeans. She finally looks at me. “I don’t like the thought of talking to that asshole. He kind of started this entire mess by shooting me.”

That’s a different perspective that I can very much agree with. “But if we’re able to talk to him and bring an end to this madness…we can try to have a normal life.”

Her legs straighten out and she gets off the bed. “Don’t you-” She cuts herself off as she paces, lifting her head to stare at the ceiling. After a time she continues in a calmer voice, “I am frustrated that we have to deal with him. If we leave we have no guarantee he will stop looking for us. I am angry that he hurt you.”

I stand and join her. It feels so good to be out of that chair. Clasping her hands I say, “We’ve been able to get out of his trouble before. And this time Victoria will be with us. I think that changes things.”

Looking down at me, she nods and gives me a quick kiss. “I don’t like it though.” Her words slip around my lips. I’m starting to get used to a Chloe that freely kisses me. I just wish I understood what stirs within me when she does.

“I’m not asking you to like it, Chloe. I don’t like it either.” Her hands slip free of mine and attach themselves to my waist. Pulling me close her mouth opens against mine in a deep kiss. Oh!

When I’m able to break away I’m breathless and flustered. It’s apparent Chloe has changed her mind about us, but I’m still not certain. I still don’t feel good enough for her.

Hand on her chest, keeping her a small distance away, I say, “You’re different Chloe.”

A shadow passes over her. “Is that…ok?”

“Yes…it’s just…as much as I like your kisses, I don’t know…” what is it I don’t know!

My uncertain words don’t faze her. “Maxie, my little pirate, you walked into a six month relationship. You are both her, and not her. It hasn’t changed my feelings for you like I thought…feared it would.”

She moves my hand aside and steps closer. “Do you love me…as a friend at least.” I nod, not trusting my voice to not make a fool of me. “Do you…feel the possibility of something else?” Again I nod. Her head lowers to touch mine. “Then that’s a start.”

“But…why did you change?”

“You never stop with the questions, do you?” There’s a pleasant mirth in her voice that touches my heart. “I changed…because I realized that even though you are different, you still care for me. It may not be the love we had, but it’s love nonetheless.”

I look into her eyes as if I might find something there, something to make my own words as meaningful as hers. “How…how do you know that I care for you, I mean besides asking me just now?” Brilliant question there, Max!

“You still take all my bullshit without giving up on me. You put yourself in harms way for me. You treat me as a person, not a problem that needs solved. Those are three ways I can think of.”

A satisfaction washes over me, combating with an inner sense of discontent. I push that aside as I hug her.

* * *

The lightning shocks me into awareness. I’m standing next to the lighthouse. The booming thunder sends me to my knees, ears ringing. My hands do little to muffle each thunderclap as it happens.

Being next to the lighthouse I’m a little sheltered from the wind that tosses around all loose items. From my crouched position the storm is very visible in its march toward Arcadia Bay. Like last time someone else is with me, only one person this time.

Her eyes burn like fiery embers as she casts her gaze on me. It’s the Max that hates me. A sneer twists her face as she walks toward me. Her hands fight the wind to keep her hair away from her face. I rise as she approaches. This Max is nothing but trouble and I have to be ready for anything.

“Where’s the other Max,” I shout over the wind.

She ignores my question. She stops within arms reach and glares at me. “Don’t think you can stop this! Destruction will come, and at your hands!”

“Why?” Give me answers!

“To complete what you started.” What?

“I didn’t start this!”

“You’re changing things. Soon Arcadia Bay will be swept clean.” She doesn’t make any sense.

“How do you know that?” I look again at the storm. Am I still wrong? Is this a consequence of my power? How can that be? Anger churns my insides. All this uncertainty is frustrating!

* * *

The storm fades into our motel room. I’m lying in Chloe’s arms. Her warmth beckons me and I snuggle closer to her. The nightmare fades as I feel her warmth and heartbeat. A contented sigh escapes as I trace my fingers along one arm. Mumbled words tumble from her sleeping mouth, but she doesn’t wake up.

Deciding my recent vision is no reason to awaken her, I rest my head on her shoulder and close my eyes.

The next morning we arrive at Blackwell at nine A.M, just as Victoria requested. Chloe is in a much better mood.

After Victoria gets in the car she gives us directions and we leave. “You’re in a better mood this morning, Chloe,” she observes.

“Yes I am.” She says nothing else to explain.

“Ok…When we get there,” Victoria says, “let me do the talking. I can get us in.”

“Where are we going?”

“The family has an old farm outside town, I’ll text you the address.”

“Not…” My words fail me as I think of the old farm I’m familiar with.

“Not that one, no. The Prescott’s own a lot of land around here.”

15 or 20 minutes after entering the highway, we’re pulling up to what looks like an abandoned house. Unlike the one where the dark room is, this one looks in good condition. It looks only recently abandoned.

Parking the car we get out. My eyes stay fixed on the house. I see movement inside, at least two different people. Victoria walks confidently up to the front door and knocks. Chloe and I look at each other, then follow.

Within moments the front door opens. It’s like Chloe said before, the guy looks like a generic thug. Shaved head, white tank top, baggy jeans. Where does Nathan find these people?

He obviously checks out Victoria, who brushes past him. “I don’t have time for the hired help,” she says, “Where’s Nathan?”

“Vic!” The obvious joy in Nathan’s voice is unmistakable. His next words are, “get out! All of you, get out!”

Generic thug number one mutters something, but leaves the house, walking toward a detached barn. Or maybe it’s a garage. Two more join him.

Victoria comes to the door, waving us in. “Come on girls, he’s here.”

A mixture of dread and caution fills me as we step into the house. It’s sparsely furnished, with just a couch and a couple of chairs. Nathan sits in one of them.

Chloe leans against the wall closest to the door, which is also the furthest away from Nathan. Victoria’s fussing over Nathan. I sit at the furthest end of the couch, closest to Chloe.

“Ok, tell us what’s up, Victoria,” I say as she finally sits down. “You seem to be a lot more at home here then you let on.”

“The original plan was to have you help get Nathan away from his father.” She ignores us while she speaks, all her attention focused on Nathan.

What does she mean, the original plan?

“But I didn’t need your help. I did it on my own!” Nathan is just as shitty as ever.

“Why us? If you weren’t lying about having no friends-”

“I wasn’t lying!” The look she gives Chloe could melt steel.

“-then I’m sure you could have paid someone to help you.” Chloe gives Victoria a look of her own.

Finally turning away from Nathan, she faces me, again ignoring Chloe. “No. I wanted you two, because you’re already involved.” Her gaze falls to her hands. “Look, despite what we said yesterday, I know we aren’t friends. I know the chances of that are very small.” She looks up again; she’s trying to smile.

“I already know everything going on, Max.”

Chloe and I look at each other. “What do you mean by everything?” Chloe says while pushing away from the wall. She stands close to me.

A coldness grips me at her words and the hair on my arms stands on end. “Sean Prescott wants you, Max, because you can control time.” I think my jaw is in my lap. “He’s been trying to groom Nathan to take over the family business. As part of it, he told Nathan to bring you to him. Nathan hates his dad, and doesn’t want to run the business, so he purposely bungled the job.”

“Bungled the job!” Chloe launches herself at Nathan, or maybe Victoria. Without a thought I enter the stillness. While I can understand Chloe’s feelings in this situation, I can’t let her hurt someone. And I can’t bring her into the stillness with me, leaving them unprotected.

As I re-enter normal time, from the corner of my eye I see Victoria’s eyes go wide and she sits back. Chloe crashes into me, knocking me to the floor in a pain-filled heap, but it stops her.

“He tried killing us!” She’s shouting now, hands clenched. Victoria is speechless, just looking at me. Her eyes are so wide I’m worried they’ll fall out of her head. Wincing from multiple pains I climb to my feet and put my hands on Chloe’s shoulders. She barely resists as I gently push her to the couch where she sits down. I plant myself between her and Victoria, who still has the big-eyed stare.

“Wow,” she finally says. “Hearing about it seemed unbelievable. Seeing it…”

A strangled kind of laugh comes from Nathan as he watches all this unfold. “It’s easy to see why dad wanted it, or wanted no one else to have it.” My eyes focus on Nathan. “Too bad he’s no longer in the picture!”

“What do you mean, no longer in the picture?” Chloe impresses me by speaking almost civilly to Nathan.

“You already told Vic about my dad’s accident. I caused that! Just like I’m going to do to everyone that thought they could push me around!”

Oh no! This is sounding just like the bathroom!

“How did you arrange the accident?”

He looks at me a long time before answering. “I can control the weather…among other things.” Control the weather? My mind is slow to make the connection, but not Chloe.

“You fucker!” She leaps at him again right when I realize Nathan is the one who destroyed Chloe’s house. Followed immediately by realizing he is the source of both the storm of last October, and likely the storm I keep seeing.

That realization captures my attention. It consumes me. Nathan was the source of the storm. But didn’t Jefferson say he killed Nathan? How could Nathan cause the storm if he was dead? Unless Jefferson was a fucking liar!

Whatever else is happening in the room is lost to me as my mind focuses solely on Nathan being the source of the storm. Not me. The thought overwhelms all other thoughts. I can’t escape it! I have to escape it! My breath is gone and I’m gasping, choking to get it back. Laughter sounds all around me, mean and cruel.

Someone else is present with me, overshadowing the need for air. A presence that brings dread and feeds the need to escape. I can’t be here! I have to get away!

Hands grab me, pull at me and I fight them off. I have to leave!

I see her then, the presence, and I freeze. It’s me, the other me. The hateful Max leers at me. It’s so startling that I stop fighting. That hateful leer is replaced by beautiful blue eyes I’d recognize anywhere. Chloe.

We’re outside the house, somewhere among the trees. She’s breathing heavy and pinning me to a tree with her body. “Damn it, Max,” she pants, “I had to stop beating that fucker to chase after you.” Words escape me so I just slump against her.

“It’s probably a good thing, though,” she whispers, “I shouldn’t let my anger control me like that. At least that’s what my therapist says.” I grab tight hold of her shirt. I need to get control of myself too, these strange attacks are causing their own problems.

She glances briefly back in what I assume is the direction of the house. “Was it…was it like the other day with the storm?” Her eyes are searching mine. All I can do is nod. Her hand brushes my hair. “Max, we’ll get through this…together.” Her arms pull me in for a long hug.

“Are you ok to go back?” Again I nod my head. Before letting me go, she says, “When we get this all figured out and settled, you are definitely going to see a therapist. If she can help me, she can help you.”

My only response is to weakly nod. She helps me back to the house where we find Victoria cleaning up Nathan. He has a black eye and a bloody nose. She looks at us as we enter. If looks could kill. “I’m not apologizing,” Chloe mutters.

“Dad didn’t say anything about you being crazy,” Nathan spits.

“She’s not crazy,” Chloe says, very much on edge. “It’s…a weakness from her time control.” I’m so touched by her defense of me.

“If it was so simple to take out your dad,” Chloe says evenly, “then why didn’t you do it months ago?”

He looks down, studying the chair or maybe his hands. I see him give Vic a furtive look. “Because of my collateral.”

“Collateral… Your dad came to us a few days ago. He left, well we think it was him, he left an envelope. Inside were pictures and a paper with the word collateral on it. What does that mean?”

Nathan’s face adopts a twisted grin. “The people in the pictures are your collateral. As long as you’re doing what dad wants,” here he stops and shrugs, then laughs a hollow laugh. “They’re safe.”

“So…,” I struggle to put my thoughts into the right words, but Chloe jumps in and says them for me.

“Victoria’s your collateral. You didn’t want to do something to get her killed.”

Ever since Nathan said the word, Victoria hasn’t looked at any of us. Her head is tilted down, gazing at hands laying loose on her lap.

“Yes.”

“Why move now? I mean you killed him just two days ago. Who was protecting Victoria?”

“It was the destruction of your house that killed Sean.” Victoria whispers the words without looking up. Nathan laughs again and leaps from his chair. His movements are jerky and quick as he paces around the room.

“Dad wanted to send you a message. It wasn’t enough for him to get your fucking parents. He made me. He MADE me destroy that house. I didn’t even know I could control a storm like that!”

He’s becoming even more animated and scary as he speaks. Hands clench and hit the air. Face reddened and eyes slitted as he sees things only he can see.

“At that moment I knew. I KNEW how to kill him.” He spins on us so quickly I jump. “The next day, on his weekly trip to Portland, I sent a storm that took out his car. I controlled it!”

Chloe and I look at each. We’re both on edge with Nathan’s behavior. On the other hand, Victoria seems just fine with it.

“He’s finally free of him,” Victoria breathes. “He can finally get the help he needs!” Help? Sure he needs it, but does he want it?

A question forms in my mind that I want to ask. I think I already know the answer and that scares me. My hand trembles a little as I reach over and take Chloe’s hand in mine. “If Sean is dead, then why are you still trying to kill us?”

“What?” Victoria’s head jerks up so quickly I swear she gave herself whiplash.

“What?” Nathan is suddenly calm, watching us. His word is harsh and I see him shoot a weird look at Victoria. Does she…?

“After Sean’s car was found, two of your guys shot us when we were at the beach.”

Nathan’s licking his lips and there is no mistaking the way his eyes flit between me and Victoria. She doesn’t know, and he doesn’t like my question.

He appears to come to some decision because he squares his shoulders and looks me directly in the eye. “Because he’s not the only one I want dead! Everyone, everyONE that pushed me around will die.”

“When did Max push you around!” Victoria’s standing now, facing Nathan and I’m not sure what to make of this situation.

“She’s the bitch that got me arrested! She told that fascist Madsen.” How did he know?

“Hey Fuckcott,” Chloe says loudly. Nathan turns his glare on her. “Your dad’s still alive. He let my step-douche out yesterday.”

All the color drains from Nathan’s face and he stumbles backward mumbling something.

“He was at the dorm yesterday. I saw him myself.” Victoria closes on Nathan as she says this.

Chloe gently tugs my hand. “Time to go,” she whispers. I nod and we exit the house. Nathan shouts something after us that I don’t catch as we step off the porch. We sprint for the car, Chloe heading around the driver’s side.

Off to the side I see the thugs exit the barn at a run. They are coming straight toward us! We quickly climb in the car and moments later I hear gun fire!

Chloe starts the car and I put my hand on hers, bringing us all into the stillness. “This is hella cool,” she says as she turns the car around and takes us back to the highway. Once there, we return to normal time and head toward town.

We’re breathing hard and laughing and feeling on top of the world after that narrow escape. Chloe can’t stop talking about how clever I was to use the stillness to escape.

“It wasn’t just me,” I protest, “Where would we be without your mad driving skills. Not to mention bringing up that Sean’s still alive. That was genius!”

“Aw, Max, we make a great team!”

“Agent C and Agent M, reporting for duty!”

Her smile is quite infectious and I find myself doing the same. After a few minutes of silence, where our breathing returns to normal, she says, “What do you make of all that? What was Victoria’s part in it all?”

My mind rolls over the events that just happened. “I was definitely surprised to learn she already knew about my powers. I wonder why she didn’t bring it up sooner? I mean to me it was obvious she already knew Nathan was after us.”

“Do you think she was playing us the entire time?”

“No, I don’t think so. She wasn’t expecting to see us at Kate’s grave. I think that part was real, along with what she told us about losing friends. The way she looked…that was real. The rest…I think she saw an opportunity and took it.”

After further thought, I add, “And that stuff at the end. She was surprised that Nathan had people try to kill us. She may not like us, but, like you said about her, she doesn’t want us dead.”

Silence reigns as we near town. My stomach rumbles, bringing a laugh from Chloe. “Proper care of your Super Max involves regular feeding,” she announces.

She pulls into one of the local drive-throughs and minutes later we’re on the road again. She, however, keeps the bags to herself and won’t let me get them.

Pulling into the junkyard, she stops the car and gets out, bags and drinks in hand. “Come on, Max,” she calls as she disappears. Scrambling after her, I catch sight of her disappearing into her hide-out. Inside she’s seated on the car seat, bags and drinks on the little table.

Taking a seat on the bench near her, I ask, “why here, Chloe?” She shrugs as she gets the food out.

“This is still my favorite spot to think and hang out. With my house gone…Well, I didn’t want to sit in the motel room all day.”

For the next few minutes the only sounds we make are of eating. My thoughts are split between sorting out the mess we’re currently in, my own lack of self-worth, and Chloe.

No matter what she tells me, I still don’t think I’m worthy of her. Part of the problem, I know, is that I still haven’t forgiven myself for how I hurt her. I probably never will. Putting that aside before it consumes me, I focus on the other set of problems.

That’s when I realize a flaw in our plans. We still don’t know where our parents are. We should have asked Nathan before he lost control! Not cool. There’s a chance we can get that information from David, if we could get him to cooperate. That’s not something I really want to do though.

A throat clearing causes us both to look at the door. Standing in the entrance is Linda. Chloe’s guess was right! My appetite disappears.

“Mr. Prescott thanks you for uncovering the traitor,” she says, “Is your answer still no?”

I look at Chloe. Now that we know what is at stake I don’t know if I can refuse. When I return my gaze to the door, she’s gone!

“What the fuck,” Chloe blurts.

“Chloe-” the knowledge of what collateral means now weighs on me, bringing my voice into a tight whine. “Should…should I accept his offer?”

“No way in hell, Max! That’s how he owns you! Every single person who’s worked for him ends up owing him more than they get from him.”

“B-but…he has our parents!” Thoughts of sweet Joyce and my parents suffering harm at his hands chokes me. I swallow the lump forming in my throat and pick at my food.

The encounter has done nothing to Chloe’s appetite though as she continues to inhale her food. “We’ll find them,” she says around a mouthful of food. The role reversal is not lost on me. Not that long ago I was the one telling her we’d find them. Now I’m the one who lacks confidence.

She points at the remains of my burger and I push it to her.

“Can we leave,” I ask as the last of my hamburger disappears into her. “I…don’t feel safe here anymore.” She nods and we grab our drinks and leave.

A pounding is our only warning as we walk among the stacks of junk. A quick glance over my shoulder rips a shriek from me. “Run, Chloe!” Stampeding behind us are some of the largest bulls I’ve ever seen! Where did they come from?

What am I doing? We don’t need to run! I reach for the stillness. It’s not there! I try again. Nothing! No rewind either. A coldness sweeps down my body.

“Right…now…is..a good time…to use…your…power,” Chloe pants. The next moment I see her flung into the air, her cry splitting the air. No!

Something large and hard bashes my side, sending me tumbling to the ground.

The bulls continue running, disappearing among the stacks of junk.

Getting to my hands and knees I make my painful way to where Chloe lies. Her twisted body is bent over a wooden beam. Her chest rises and falls, but otherwise she’s not moving. I try again for the rewind. It’s not there. Crouching over her, I see her eyes are open. “Ow.” I can barely hear her voice.

A dull rumble reaches my ears, growing in volume. No! Looking up, I see the bulls returning at full speed. Rewind! No! It’s still not working! Hoping I don’t make any of her injuries worse, I grab her shirt and start dragging her. I feel something give in my side and a searing pain shoots through me!

My side screams at me as I struggle to move us. In turn I scream at everything as I use my feeble strength to move Chloe out of harms way. It’s not enough. I’m too slow! I’m too weak!

The pounding of the hooves overwhelms my senses. Hoping it helps, I throw myself over Chloe. Let them take me, not her!

The thunder of hooves passes to either side of us and disappears.

“That’s your last warning.” Linda! My head shoots up and I see her a few feet away. “Mr. Prescott doesn’t like to be kept waiting.”

“Eat shit and die,” I scream at her. Only it comes out as a broken whisper. Without further words or expression she turns on her heel and leaves.

Bowing my head, I rest it on Chloe’s. She’s still not moving. What happened to her!

Rolling off of her, I run my hands over her body. Nothing feels broken, but I don’t really know what I’m doing, do I?

“Max?” Her voice is weak.

I lean over her. “Yes, Chloe?”

“I…I can’t feel my legs.”

What?! No! No! No! My hands run through my hair, gripping and pulling. What is happening?

Rewind. It works!

“I-I’m so sorry, Chloe! I’ll make it better.” Wiping my nose, I back away from her. Rewind. I travel back until I see her exit the clubhouse. Quickly entering the stillness I run and throw my arms around her.

“Whoa! What’s the matter, Max!”

“It was all my fault, Chloe! You were hurt, paralyzed I think, because I-I didn’t…couldn’t use my rewind!”

“Ok, Max. It’s ok. Look you better let go before you break my rib or something.”

Reluctantly I let go and step away, holding her hand. I look to where Linda stood when giving her latest warning, but she’s not there. That’s less important right now. I have to protect Chloe.

“Come on,” I say as I set off pulling her behind me, “let’s get to the car.” We walk through the standstill and get into the car. Once we are both in, we resume normal time and drive away.

I watch behind us and see the group of bulls go tearing among the stacks of junk. “Faster, Chloe,” I urge, “get us out of here!”


	13. Estates

I don’t relax until we are locked in our motel room. In the bathroom, I splash cold water on my face. It’s not enough. I’m not enough. Grasping the edge of the counter I lean down so I don’t see my reflection. What happened?

For being an off-brand motel, the restroom is spacious, with a stand alone shower and garden tub. My body aches all over. I feel inadequate. I am inadequate. There’s an urge in my hands to do something. Turning on the shower, I strip down while the water heats up.

Painfully, I peel off the bandage. The scabbing had torn and blood soaked through the bandage. That must be what I felt tear earlier. My body is in pain. Bruises are forming on my right side from being butted. I didn’t tell Chloe about that. Bruises are on my face where I beat myself. A gunshot wound is on my left. I can’t recall ever feeling this broken. My body is becoming as broken as my mind.

The shower head is overhead, making it feel like a warm rain as I step into it. Drawing my hands up, I close my eyes and rest my chin on my fists as I focus on the wonderful warmth washing over me.

**_Max?_ **

I jerk in surprise, and immediately flinch as the sudden movement flares pain throughout my body. Max hasn’t said a word for a while.

Max! Are you…are you ok?

**_I don’t have much time. Don’t let her win, Max! Remember you are Max Prime. You are in control! She can’t take that completely away from you._ **

What do you mean?

Silence. She must be talking about the hateful Max. What does she mean that I’m in control? My eyes close again as I ponder the words. Under the delightful shower I sway to and fro.

Arms wrap themselves around me and I jump with a small yelp, from both surprise and pain. Spinning around I break free and back myself toward the corner. My arms automatically cover myself.

Chloe whistles and says, “Nice view, Maxine!”

Heat rises up my neck, hotter than the water streaming down, as I realize she’s completely naked. “No,” I protest, “I don’t want you to see me like this! I-I’m ugly.” I cover myself with my arms and turn away from her.

A hand touches my shoulder, light and tentative. “Max?” I peek at her over my shoulder and my heart sinks. She looks so hurt with her face downcast and shoulders slumped.

“How could I find ugly the girl who has given more of herself for me than anyone?”

In those words I heard again that girl of five years ago, telling me how she knew I was moving and wanted the day to be awesome for me. I slowly turn, scared that she’ll see my broken body as ugly and reject me. I don’t look like a strong woman, just a broken, battered shell.

Her arms come around me, pulling me close. Her breasts press against my arm as her head touches mine. A confusion of emotions swirling within me take my power of coherent speech.

“Is this ok,” she asks. Her voice is so soft I barely hear it about the water. I nod. “I should have asked before coming in here, Max. I’m sorry.”

“You’re so beautiful,” she whispers. My eyes look into hers, seeking the mirth or mocking glint. All I find is sincerity and genuineness. I relax a fraction, even though I don’t feel beautiful.

The touch of her skin, the parts that are normally hid by clothing, is unexpectedly pleasant. “Chloe-” I whisper before her lips meet mine.

“You’re so dirty,” she says around our kiss, “looks like you need help getting clean.”

* * *

We’re on the bed. I’m leaning against her, freshly cleaned and bandaged. Chloe’s arms are around me and I’m relishing the feel of full skin-on-skin contact.

Chloe knows me better than I know myself. She didn’t come into the shower to push me into something I wasn’t ready for. She showed me a tenderness I needed. Lying here naked, reclining against her brings a wholesome satisfaction. She’s the first person I’ve seen naked, and the first to see me naked. Everything feels right…even though we haven’t done anything. Not really anyway.

We’re snuggled under the sheets, trapping our warmth into a cozy nest. Looking at the clock I see it’s close to 6 PM. Leaning my head back I murmur in her ear, “You are wonderful.”

“I know,” she whispers back.

We are very relaxed, pondering our own thoughts. I’m fidgeting with her hands, stroking the fingers, watching them move.

“Why do you love me?” Chloe’s words are so soft I barely hear them. What! My fingers stop their stroking.

“B-because I…you…” Come on Max! These are the moments I dread, when the words won’t come.

Taking a breath I try again. “You get me to do things…that no one else is able to?”

“So you love me because I’m a manipulator?”

I turn my head to look at her. Her brows are slightly lowered, and there’s a hard set to her mouth. “No! That’s not it at all. Where is this coming from, Chloe?”

“I want to know, Caulfield. Both of you told me you love me. I want to know why. I want to know…if I’m…” Her words die on her lips and her eyes won’t meet mine.

“-worth it,” I finish. She nods, still averting her eyes. I suddenly realize that both of us suffer from similar negative thoughts about ourselves. Hers are likely spurred by William’s death and my abandoning her. Mine, well mine are because I’ver never thought much of myself. All my screw-ups reconfirm my worthlessness.

Gathering her hands in mine again, I look at them. Another deep breath. “When I moved to Seattle I learned I wasn’t ready to…adventure on my own. Without you…it’s like part of me is missing. When you smile…when I do something that makes you smile…it’s the best thing ever. I want to see that smile, to be the one who makes you smile. You make me feel complete. I want to be the one who completes you.”

I close my eyes and take another deep breath. My words don’t seem right. They don’t feel big enough, or strong enough, or something! They just feel weak.

“Really,” I whisper, “you’re amazing, Chloe. I should be asking why you care about me. You’re brave. You’re beautiful. You don’t take anything from anyone. I’m nothing like that. All I do is fuck things up.”

Her arms tighten around me. “Because that’s not how I see you. You’re my hero. You are beautiful. You’re the most amazing, smartest person I know. You constantly put my needs before your own.

“Max…more than once you’ve put my happiness above your own. Going back to try to save my dad. Giving up that photo contest to save me. And more. Just look at these past couple of days! Honestly, it’s overwhelming. For so long I felt…unloveable, and then you came back and turned that completely on its head.

“Thanks.” Chloe’s words are warm in my ears.

“For?”

“For being you.”

She kisses my temple, then leans her head against mine. I settle deeper into her embrace, twinging a bit when my bruised sides touch her. I wish this moment could last forever.

“What happened today?”

“Do you mean with my rewind?”

“Yeah, you said you…couldn’t use it?”

Briefly I relate the stampede, her injury, and Linda’s appearance. “I don’t know what happened, Chloe. My power has been so reliable until now.” A thought, a memory of the October prior comes to me. “When I first got my power I was very hesitant to use it. I thought it was temporary, that it would go away. Do you think that’s what’s happening?”

Her chin draws circles in my hair while I continue playing with her hands. “That’s…possible, Max. However it worked again, so maybe it’s something else?”

“Do you think it’s possible that Linda blocked my power?”

I feel her shoulders shrug. “Maybe. We don’t really know anything about her.”

She says nothing else after that and I return to studying and playing with her hands. She starts slowly moving them up my sheet-covered body.

She’s in the middle of kissing me when a knock sounds on our door. I draw away with a gasp. Scrambling off the bed, my body screaming at me from the movement, I scurry to find clothes to put on. From the corner of my eye, I see Chloe drape the blanket around her body and walk to the door. With an “eep!” I grab my clothes and jump into the restroom, shutting the door behind me.

Through the door I hear muffled greetings. Throwing my clothes on, with a great deal of pain and effort, I straighten my hair and exit the restroom.

“You really should spray air freshener or something before inviting someone in!” Victoria is waving a hand in front of her face. “All I smell is-”

“The only thing you’re smelling is your imagination,” I say. “What are you doing here?” My gaze turns to Chloe, who’s seated back on the bed with a sack of food next to her.

“I…came to apologize.”

“And bring food!” Really Chloe? Food?

“I didn’t know Nathan was-is still trying to kill you. I thought that was all his father. I thought-” she breaks off her words and looks away, biting her lip. After a few moments she continues. “Anyways, he doesn’t know you have a room here so you’ll be safe.”

“From him at least,” Chloe says around her burger.

“Sean’s associate Linda found us today,” I say, not really wanting to. Her eyebrows raise at that.

“Linda! So Sean really isn’t dead,” she’s almost speaking the words to herself. Looking at me, she says, “you need to stay away from her. She freaks even Nathan out. Somethings not right with her!”

My lip curls at that and I want to spit out an insult but stop myself in time. “Was it all an act, Victoria?”

Her head hangs at my question and she takes a seat on one of the painful chairs. Then immediately stands because they are so painful.

“No.” I have to strain to hear her. “He…lied to me. He said he needed to talk to you, that it was part of breaking free with his dad and the past.”

“And you believed him?”

A fell light enters her eyes and she steps close to me. “He was the only friend I had left! He stuck with me over the years with a lot of shit I went through. I had no reason to distrust him.”

Except he killed Rachel. He tried to kill Chloe. He was involved with Jefferson, drugging women and taking pictures of them without consent. Assault. But I don’t say any of that.

I wipe her spittle from my chin and study her. I think she’s telling the truth. My arms go around her and I pull her into a hug. She’s clearly shocked by my action and sputters a protest. Even Chloe is saying something in disbelief.

My arms drop and I step away from her. A look of pure amazement captures her face. “W-why? After everything I did, how could you do that?” I consider her words for a time, then gesture at the other bed. We seat ourselves.

“I’m not from this time, Victoria. I’ve only been here since last Friday.”

Her eyes narrow and she tries to interrupt me with a rude comment, but I ignore her and keep talking.

“In the timeline I’m from…Kate didn’t jump. When everything came out…” It’s so hard to talk about this. My chest tightens and a lump is pushing up my throat. My hands are working themselves into a painful knot.

“She forgave you for your part in it.” I give her a weak smile, using it to hold the tears at bay. “And then she turned her attention to me. She saved me.”

Her brow is furrowed, mouth working to speak but no words are coming. Finally she says, “so you didn’t have Chloe in that…timeline?” I shake my head, fighting to keep the emotions away.

“And what does that have to do with us?”

“She became a role model for me. When I came here on Friday…it was devastating to learn she died in this timeline. I struggle with it each day. I want to live up to some of the ideals she embodied, such as foregiveness.” Now the tears are here, slowly trickling down my cheek.

“I’m trying to be more like the person she was…like the person I think she’d want me to be.”

I look at her, fully look at her and touch her arm. “She forgave you for your role in what happened to her. If I don’t forgive you…then I’m really not the person…” I can’t continue, breaking off to stare at my lap and hide behind my hands.

Arms enfold me as the bed shifts. Chloe had snuck up behind me, ready to support me just when I needed it. I turn and bury my face in her shoulder.

She and Chloe speak but I don’t pay attention. I’m trying to hold it together as memory of Kate pulls me down. Again and again I’ve made bad decisions. Now our parents are in the hands of a monster, and Chloe and I are stuck between some strange duel between father and son.

When I finally raise my head and peer around, Victoria is gone.

“You’re not a fuck up, Max,” Chloe says. The fact she knows what I’m thinking no longer surprises me. It makes me…what? Love her? Is that what I feel? Love her…more?

* * *

A groan escapes me when I open my eyes to find I’m standing in the hall of Blackwell Academy. The halls are dimly lit, save for the door to the science room which is open. Quietly I walk toward it.

Sitting on the desk watching the door is the hateful Max. Her baleful eyes seem to gleam as they spy me.

“Welcome to class, Max!” Her tone is harsh and her arm jerks a signal to enter. Upon stepping into the room I’m instantly transported to a seat at one of the tables. I attempt to protest, but she cuts me off.

“Now, class, let’s begin.” She strides across the front of the room, a ruler tapping into her hand. “First, we need to establish rules. Without rules we won’t have order. Without rules, we won’t learn.” She stops in front of my table and glares at me.

“What happens to those who try to break the rules? They are broken!” She gestures and I hear a squeal of metal on concrete. It pierces my brain, forcing my hands over my ears. Something stops next to my table. Glancing at it I start and leap from my seat away from it.

The stand that normally holds the skeleton is next to my table, but it’s not the skeleton suspended from the hook. It’s the other Max! Her face is bloodied and bruised. Her arms are slack at her side, blood dripping from her fingers. Her clothes are dark with blood and torn. She’s still breathing, though.

“Max!” I step toward her and am interrupted by a loud bang. Hateful Max leans toward me, her eyes on fire. “You will do what I say! You will do what I want! And what I want is for Arcadia Bay and you to be destroyed!”

“You’re in control.” Max’s words come back to me. This is just a dream. If I’m in control, then I can change this, right?

“No,” I say and I cross my arms. “I am not doing what you want. I won’t let Arcadia Bay be destroyed!”

Stepping around the desk she gets in my face. “You won’t have a choice!” Spit accompanies her words, flecking my face. “Just like I wasn’t given a choice.”

Wiping my face with my sleeve, I shoot back, “What are you on about? You’ve been ranting for days now and haven’t told me what I did to you.”

Her eyes slit and her arms cross as she leans back. Shaking her head she says, “I can’t believe you are the original Max, you’re so dense.”

Leaning toward her, I hiss, “Will you tell me, already!”

Something passes over her face, not hate or anger, something else. Something softer, yet scarier. “I’ll show you, Max.”

The class room morphs into a bedroom, one that’s very familiar. I sit in a chair next to the bed. In front of me is a photo album with pictures of Chloe and I as children. It’s propped on a body under a blue blanket.

Tears are already springing to my eyes as I look toward the head of the bed. I know who I’ll see. As much as I don’t want to look I can’t stop myself. Chloe looks so peaceful, lying there. She’s without the pain and inner turmoil she must have suffered since the accident.

A tentative knock sounds at the door. Turning my head I see William poke his head around the door. “Hey girls, are you ready for breakfast?”

My heart freezes in my chest and my eyes widen. Standing on shaky legs I stammer out, “y-yeah um, no, thanks William, but I-uh I gotta go. I have classes right now!”

William steps into the room. “Are you ok,” he asks as he walks toward us. “Is Chloe awake?”

I back away as he leans over the bed. “Chloe?” My eyes close as he leans closer. “Chloe!”

No, no! This can’t be happening!

“What happened! Max! What happened?”

My shoulders are grabbed and he shakes me until my eyes open. I can’t look into his eyes, I can’t! But I do. His blue eyes leak tears. He asks again, shouts really, and I cringe away from him. “What did you do to my Chloe, Max!”

“I…she…” the words won’t come. I want to tell him that she wanted control over this. She wanted this decision to be hers! They won’t come! They stick in my throat, in my heart and his shaking won’t break them loose.

Breaking away from him, I stumble toward the wall and collapse.

“Yes, I have a crime to report. 44 Cedar Avenue. A murder was committed.”

No! No! I didn’t murder her!

Through bleary vision I look up at William. He looms over me, face dark like I’ve never seen as he gives details to the 911 dispatch. He hangs up, knuckles so white on the phone I think it will break.

“You betrayed us, Max.” I barely hear his words. “When you came yesterday I thought, ‘This is just what Chloe needs, her best friend come to spend time with her.’”

His gaze lowers to look at me. A darkness has claimed his eyes, turning them into bottomless voids that seek to trap me. For the first time in my life, I’m afraid of William Price.

“You took her from us. You TOOK her from us! What am I going to tell Joyce?”

She wanted this! She wanted your suffering to end! The words just stick in me. Pushing my back against the wall I struggle to stand, and find myself sitting up in bed in a dark room. The vision fades into the darkness of our motel room. There’s a dampness on my cheeks that dries even as the dream fades.

I scoot backwards to lean against the head board. Chloe stirs, her arm reaching out for me. Light glints off her eyes when she opens them. “Max?”

Reaching down I take her hand. She lifts her head and asks, “Are you ok? Did you have another dream?”

“Yeah.”

Immediately she’s up and taking me into her arms. “Do…do you want to talk about it? I mean, is it ok to talk about?”

Touching her cheek I give her a quick kiss. “Yeah, this one didn’t involve torture…well not too much.” Even though it’s dark I see her face twist when I mention torture. Her arms tighten on me.

“Tell me about it, please…I mean if you can talk about it.”

“I think I know why that Max hates me…” The words bring the dream, or vision, fresh life in my mind. I see again William standing over me, not just angry but something else. It’s like I sucked all the life out of him, leaving just a shell behind.

“Remember me telling you about trying to save…your dad?”

“Yeah.”

“I think she’s the Max from that timeline.”

My words seem to silence her. When her words do come, they are a whisper in my ear. “You mean, she’s the Max in the timeline where I was paralyzed and asked you to help me die?”

I nod, hoping she’ll see or feel the movement. Dropping her hand, I seek her arms, wanting to feel them, hold onto them. After a few breaths I recount my dream.

“Damn, Max. That makes sense. I mean it explains why she hates you so much. You turned her world upside down and left.”

“It explains to me why she keeps telling me I destroyed everything. That all I can do is destroy. That’s what I did to her.”

“But you didn’t know, Max! You thought you were doing a good thing.”

“That’s the problem, Chloe. All I do is fuck things up. My choices aren’t good ones. I mean sure, you’re alive and I wouldn’t trade that for anything. But at what cost? Kate…is dead in this timeline. That’s on me. Who else is now suffering or dead because I couldn’t live without you?”

“Max, you’re being too hard on yourself. You can’t save everyone. You can’t be responsible for everyone’s lives. You can only be responsible for yours.”

Her words sound so reassuring. But I can’t believe them. Resting my head on hers, I close my eyes and try to push out all the doubt and hate. Right now I just want to feel her, to be with her.

  


The next morning dawns like all other mornings. Wake up, get out of bed, clean up, put on clean clothes, etc. Today I happen to put on my last pair of clean pants and underwear. Taking one of the backpacks, I empty it and put all our dirty clothes into it, with the plan to do some laundry this morning.

Chloe eyes the backpack as we get in the car. Without saying a word she drives to the laundromat and throws the clothes into the nearest washer. “We’ll switch them after breakfast.”

“Are you washing them on cold?”

Brow wrinkled she looks at me. “Nah, why?”

“Ummm, because the colors may bleed?”

“Psssh,” she says as we drive off. “I once wore the same shirt five days in a row. Come to think of it, I did that more than once. A little color bleeding will add character.”

Breakfast happens at the diner, no surprise there. The atmosphere is still sombre for us. Joyce isn’t behind the counter. Her absence is noted in more than just the lack of her presence.

Our drinks, then our food comes and we eat among general chit chat. Chloe employs her bull shitting talents to keep us chatting and laughing throughout the meal.

We’re nearing the end of our meal when David walks in. Spying us immediately, he slowly walks over to our table. Standing at the end of the table, he stares with a glare that softens into something else. We ignore him and continue to talk and drink our coffee.

“Have you decided to work with them,” he finally asks. His voice is commanding, but there’s another tone mixed into it.

Chloe’s hand slaps the table. “Have you decided to stop beating up girls?” He hangs his head and I see his hands hanging loose at his side begin trembling.

“Wait a second,” I say as a thought occurs to me, “you said they had you. Where were they keeping you?”

Lifting his head to look at me my heart softens. His face is totally slack, missing that normal David glower. He looks defeated. “What do you mean,” he says in a broken whisper.

“Where were they keeping you? You said they still have Joyce and my parents. Did you see them? If you know where they are, we can get them out.” Maybe. I hope.

For several moments he continues to look at me, then his shoulders and face sag. “I-I don’t know,” he says. “They kept me blindfolded and had something over my ears. They dropped me off near Blackwell and said you were in the dorm.”

“Wait!” I look at Chloe who also looks surprised. “They told you where to find us? Who told you?”

He nods and says, “It was some lady, straight black hair, about your height.”

“Do you remember the name?”

“She never gave me a name.”

“What about where you were held. Is there anything you can remember about that?”

He’s silent for a while, then says, “It was new construction. The room I was in was plain, unfinished dry wall. No furniture. Kind of like a storage room.”

“Why aren’t you with the police trying to track them down?” Good question, Chloe!

The question takes everything out of him and he nearly collapses. “There’s nothing they can do. I gave them the descriptions, but without proof, or location they won’t do anything.”

“So you thought you could just…what, come in here and force us to do something? Come on, Max, let’s leave.”

Chloe slides out of the booth and stalks toward the door. I’m not far behind. At the door I pause and look back. David just stands there, on the verge of collapse. For a moment my heart goes out to him. He’s not a bad person, no matter what he seems on the outside.

He does care about Joyce. And he did save me in the dark room. For a moment I remember seeing Mark Jefferson, bullet wound in his head. David does love Chloe. He just doesn’t know how to show it.

“David,” I say and he looks at me. “Don’t give up hope. We’ll find them.” He gives a weak nod and slides into the booth. The last thing I see he’s sitting with his head in his hands.

Chloe’s driving us all over town, no destination in mind. The fifth time we pass her street I say, “Let’s go check on the laundry.” She nods and heads toward the laundromat.

At the laundromat we discover a kind person put our clothes in the drier, and turned it on. Thankfully none of the colors bled. All the whites look ok. While I fold my clothes neatly, Chloe wads hers and shoves them into the backpack. Except her shirts, she neatly folds those.

“What now, Maximus,” she asks as she leans against the nearest washer.

Putting my clothes in the backpack, I zip it closed and look at her. “Find our parents?”

“Find you.” Linda’s voice causes me to spin around. She stands in the entrance and I realize it’s just the three of us here. Yesterday she said time was up. What will happen now?

She steps toward us, her boots soft on the linoleum. For the first time I notice her boots have heels. She must be my height, the heels making her closer to Chloe’s height. She stops a few feet away, smiling.

Chloe moves to stand in front of me, but I stop her with a hand on her arm. “Don’t get close to her,” I warn.

Linda looks at Chloe and smiles broadly. My eyes widen and the table bumps me as I try to step back. Her grin is so predatory I expect her to leap for Chloe’s throat!

“Oh, Chloe,” she says in a pouting voice, “won’t you please touch me?” Her eyes shift to me, and her hands start running down the front of her clothes. “Touch me like you touch Max.” Gross!

“Not a chance in hell,” Chloe spits.

She steps closer; Chloe edges in front of me. “What do you want, Linda?”

Continuing to ignore Chloe, Linda says, “I grow tired of waiting. Come join us at the Estates, Max.” She looks to say something else but Chloe interrupts.

“How do we stop this?”

“Stop this? There’s no stopping this! You refused to play along. Now each and every one of your collateral will be spent, until you’re bled dry. And when you think you’ve given everything you can give, we’ll take more.”

Her words are apparently too much for Chloe as she reaches out to shove Linda. Quicker than I can follow, Linda grabs Chloe’s arm and with a sharp blow breaks it. An audible snap comes from Chloe’s arm and she falls to her knees with a painful cry!

“No,” the scream speeds from my mouth even as I’m reaching for my rewind, but Chloe is touching me! I step away from her and rewind.

“Don’t touch her,” I cry as I re-enter normal time. Chloe jumps a little since I’m now standing away from her.

Linda stops speaking mid-sentence and steps close to me. “When you’re broken,” she whispers in my ear, “it will be my turn with you. I’m looking forward to that.” Her words and close presence stir a strong desire to be somewhere else. Words race through my head, none forming sentences I can use to answer.

Linda straightens up, turns on her heel, and walks from the laundromat. Chloe is next to me in an instant, her hand on my arm, peering at me. “Are you ok? What did she say?”

Linda’s words rattle off my tongue as I distractedly watch her disappear from sight down the sidewalk. Gently pulling my arm, Chloe leads me to the car. Once inside we sit there a while, the car not even on.

“What do you think she meant by ‘come join us at the estates’?” Chloe’s question pulls me from my thoughts.

Shaking my head I say, “we already searched the Prescott Estate. I don’t know.”

“What about the Pan Estates?”

“Yeah…but, come join us?”

“These fucking people keep speaking in riddles. I wish they’d just say what they mean!”

Well, I can certainly agree with Chloe on that. There are too many deflections in every message and conversation with those people.

As I think more about what Chloe said, I am more certain that Linda was telling me to come to Pan Estates. That is the only specific thing she ever said.

“You’re thinking of going there, aren’t you, Max?”

Startled, I look at her. “How do you know?”

Sighing, Chloe turns to me. “Max, you get a look about you when you’re making a decision.” A look?

“What do you mean by ‘a look’?”

“You get sort of…I don’t know, pensive! Like you’re trying to figure out how to tell me what you’ve just decided.”

No doubt about it. She knows me very well.

Sighing I give in to her real question. “Yes, I’m thinking of going there.”

She turns, takes my hands in hers and looks me in the eye. “Promise me you won’t leave me behind.”

“Chloe?! Why would I-”

“Promise me!”

Her hold on my hands is firm but gentle. I want to pull away, to touch her and reassure her. But she knows me. “Why would I leave you behind?”

“Because you don’t want me getting hurt and if we go to them…there’s no telling what will happen.”

Biting my lip I look at her, unable to deny what she said. “Ok. Ok, I’ll take you with me.”

Her serious face relaxes into a grin and she lets my hands drop. “Alright. Let’s go.”

“Now?”

“Yes, now.” She starts the car while she answers. Quickly I buckle up, trying to think of a reason not to go right now. Too many things about this make me nervous, and she’s right I would leave her behind if I could.

The drive doesn’t take very long, seeing as the entrance isn’t far from Blackwell. There’s only a construction entrance, which is shut and locked. We’ll either have to find another way, or leave our car and walk in. Chloe hopping the gate tells me what we’re doing.

I take her hand while we walk. Each step deepens a pit in my stomach. Sweat breaks out on my brow and my palms. Even though my hand must be disgusting, she doesn’t drop it. In fact she tightens her grip and flashes me a smile. My smile is more of a wince than anything.

Under other circumstances I’m sure I would enjoy the walk, and not just because I’m holding hands with Chloe. The narrow gravel road takes us through stately pines, lodgepole, spruce, and more. The underbrush is thick, hiding the roots of the trees. Even though we’re close to town, the sounds of civilization seem far away.

A sudden loud noise causes both of us to jump. The light dims as clouds suddenly appear in the sky. A distant roar comes to us along with shouts. We hurry along the road, wondering if a sudden storm will be upon us.

There is a sudden storm, but not on us. The road bends and ends in a man-made clearing. To one side is large construction equipment. Three houses cluster around a cul-de-sac in front of us. The cul-de-sac, and a few streets winding from it, are paved, with sidewalks and nice shrubbery. To the other side are various construction trailers and some pickups.

All that I see in an instant as my eyes sweep across the area. A small tornado is sweeping through the clearing, bearing down on one of the construction trailers! Chloe points and I see a small figure crouched near the base of one of the houses. It looks like Nathan.

Before we can move, several figures exit the trailer moments before the tornado destroys it. They scurry away, outpacing the slow moving storm.

“We need to check the houses,” Chloe says. I nod, remembering David’s words about new construction. Taking advantage of the situation, we hurry to the nearest house. Just before we enter I glance in Nathan’s direction. Two bears are running toward him. I take a sharp breath and run into the house, slamming its door and collapsing against it.

“What is it!”

“Bears!”

“Bears?”

I nod instead of repeating myself. Inspiration strikes me then and I slide myself up the door. “I…I think one of the others can control bears.”

She looks at me one eyebrow raised. “Control bears.” She couldn’t make her voice sound more doubtful.

“They were running directly at Nathan. Remember when we were attacked?”

She nods slowly. “It makes sense. Those bears acted really weird.” A sudden shriek makes me shiver.

“Doesn’t matter. Let’s search this place.” Drawing a breath I nod in agreement. We hurriedly search the house from top to bottom. Outside is all kinds of noise and commotion. Whatever is happening sounds painful, at least what we can hear over the wind.

The house is empty, and it doesn’t look like anyone was kept here. Edging out the door, we press flat against the house and Chloe checks around the corner. Some of the heavy equipment is now toppled, bent and dented. I spy one of the bears dead, its mangled body draped over a frontend loader.

“Come on,” Chloe says, “they’re over by one of the trailers arguing.” We scurry to the next house and repeat our search. This house has a storage closet below the stairs. In there we find evidence that someone was kept in the room. I’m guessing this is where David was kept. Why was he kept separate from everyone else?

By the time we return to the door the commotion outside has died down.

“Max! Chloe!” My blood runs cold as I recognize the voice: Linda.

“We know you’re here. We saw you run into one of the houses.” Her voice is so smug, so sure.

“Come out. Your parents want to see you.”

Chloe and I look at each other, then I open the door and step outside.

The construction equipment is ruined, as are the trailers. Great chunks of ground are pulled from the earth, lying in heaps everywhere. Trees are broken and strewn about the area. Amidst the ruin, clothes torn and dirty, stand Linda and Sean.

To the side are Joyce, Ryan, and Vanessa. Dad is holding mom, while Joyce stands alone behind them. Three mountain lions are pacing around them. So, not just bears. Someone can control all animals?

“There you are girls.” Linda’s voice takes on a charming, pleasant tone. It’s disgusting. As we walk to the end of the sidewalk I now see a huddled mass on the ground at Linda’s feet. A body. Nathan.

A shudder runs through me at seeing him dead and broken. Chloe calls out, “We’ll just take our parents and leave.”

A sick smile crosses Linda’s face. “Some people just need a bit of persuasion,” Sean says. “Each time you refuse, another parent dies.” He gestures and one of the lions stops and steps closer to my parents. A chill laugh sounds in my head.

_Oh, this is too perfect._

Something heavy forms inside of me as the lion steps closer to my parents. “Well, at least we know who animal control is,” Chloe mutters. “Freeze time, Max, and we’ll get them out.”

Nodding I reach for the stillness. It’s not there! I reach again. Nothing! The heaviness within me intensifies, weighing down my thoughts and hopes. More laughter sounds in my head.

_Your loss, Maxine!_

“Freeze time, Max!”

“I-I can’t, Chloe!”

Turning, she grabs my shoulders and looks at me. “What do you mean, you can’t?”

“I-it’s like at the junkyard, something’s blocking my control!”

For a moment she’s silent, looking deep into my eyes. What’s going through her mind right now?

“What will it be, Max,” Sean calls, “work for me, or lose a parent?”

No! Not mom and dad! Rewind! It’s not working!

Before I realize it, Chloe has let go of me and is sprinting toward Linda and Sean. I call after her but she ignores me. I manage one faltered step forward before Linda meets Chloe. She thrusts her hand, palm out, and Chloe, with a strangled cry, goes flying backwards!

“No! Chloe!” She lands with a heart wrenching thud and lays unmoving. I switch my flight toward her, crying her name. She doesn’t answer.

Falling to my knees, vision blurred, I paw at her shoulder. She’s not moving! Why isn’t she moving? Blood soaks the front of her shirt. So much blood!

A hand grasps my shirt, pulling me up and around. Linda’s face is in mine, her teeth displayed in a horrific smile. She runs her tongue over them. “As soon as you’re broken,” she promises.

With one motion she sends me tumbling to the ground, several feet away. I struggle to my feet, I have to get back to Chloe! I have to stop this!

“Ok then,” Sean’s voice sounds over the lion’s growls and our parents cries. “You girls will have even more in common. Say goodbye to your father, Max!”

I freeze in that moment, caught between my need to be with Chloe and my need to save my dad. A searing pain in my mind sends me tumbling to the ground and everything becomes quiet. I’m on my hands and knees, panting my way toward Chloe when something slams into the wound on my side. Collapsing to the ground with a cry of pain, I look around.

Baleful eyes glare at me from Max’s face. “Say goodbye to daddy,” she hisses. Her foot lashes out hitting me in the side again. Pain flashes through my side and I collapse again. Pain is all I can think about as I lay curled on the ground.

She looms over me, a dark shadow promising more pain. “How are you here,” I say, but she ignores my question. A realization hits me suddenly, terribly. Between wincing breaths I manage to say, “You’re blocking my power, aren’t you?” The only answer I get is a laugh.

She kneels and looks at me with a fake look of concern. “Oh, Max Prime isn’t enough for me.” Her tone turns hard a bitter then. “Now you get to live with pain like you gave me!”

“I’m sorry, Max. I-I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“Sorry doesn’t bring back my Chloe. It doesn’t bring back my life!”

“I…I know that. But is this really what you want? Do you want to kill Chloe and our parents?”

Do I see a softening of her glare? In her hesitation I push myself up. Warm liquid trickles down my side. My wound has reopened.

Movement to my side catches my eye and I turn. The other Max, from this time line, is next to me. In the light I’m stricken suddenly at how like my own her injuries are!

Whatever softening may have happened disappears as this third Max enters. Hateful Max intensifies her glare and stands up.

“You! You brought us into the stillness, didn’t you!” She pokes Max’s chest with a finger.

Ignoring her the other Max looks at me and offers a hand, helping me to my feet. “Remember,” she says, “you’re in control, not her.” After those words she moves between us.

If I’m in control, then why can’t I use my power?

As the hateful Max begins a verbal attack, I look around. I’m in control. But I don’t want to be. I’ve made so many mistakes, causing harm to myself and others.

My eyes shift again, seeing the two Max’s that I hurt. There’s no way I can undo their pain, nor the harm to their lives.

My eyes light on Chloe. I hurt her so much. I began to hurt her long before I had powers.

As the two girls start to argue and fight, I kneel by Chloe and take her lifeless hand into mine. It’s her I hurt the most. I haven’t forgiven myself for that pain. The brokenness of her body is merely a reflection of the brokenness of spirit and heart I have caused her.

No matter what I do, it’s not enough. It’s always pain in the end for those I love. I know what I need to do, no matter how painful or difficult it may be. Closing my eyes, I touch my lips to her hand, then press it against my forehead.


	14. Decision

Everything I’ve done since Friday is for Chloe. “You’re my number one priority!” Those words are still true.

Pushing aside the doubt that plagues me, I stand and face the Max’s.

“I took something special away from both of you,” I say. At my words they stop fighting. “And I had no right to do that. I…I’m sorry. But if you don’t help me now, Chloe will die. Is that what both of you really want?”

Hateful Max opens her mouth, then shuts it with an audible click. The fire in her eyes glows hotter. I step forward and take her into my arms. “I’m sorry I took your Chloe and your life from you, Max. Let me set things right…and then I’ll…”

In my arms her body goes through a cycle of tensing and relaxing, fighting acceptance of my apology.

“I know words can never bring her back to you,” I whisper into her ear, “but I’ll do my best to make things right. I’ll find a way to stop what I did. Everything I did.” I step away from her and see her eyes shine with hate and pain.

“I don’t believe you,” she hisses. “You’re just-you’re just-” but her complaint dies in her throat.

The other Max places a hand on hateful Max’s shoulder. “This is what you want, isn’t it,” she asks. “You won. You broke her!”

Hateful Max looks at me a moment longer before her face softens. In that moment I feel it, I can use my ability again.

With my hand on hateful Max, I rewind.

Chloe is facing where I used to be, her hands up and clenching empty air. I feel so drained of mind and spirit.

Stopping the rewind, I reach out and touch her, bringing her into the stillness with me.

“-you can’t?” Puzzlement crosses her face. She feels my touch but I’m not in front of her anymore.

Pulling her into a hug, I collapse against her. In her arms I find refreshment. “What? Ok, you got your power back, now let’s…” Turning in the hug I see the other Max’s staring at us.

“What’s going on here?”

“We have little time,” I say, “but,” pointing to hateful Max, with her furious eyes, “that’s the Max whose Chloe I….” I can’t bring myself to say it.

She guesses though. It’s not that hard. “Oh, um, hi?”

Pointing to the other Max, I say, “and that’s the one I took from you. I’m so sorry!” I can’t read her expression. She takes a hesitant step forward, then another. The next moment she runs to us and wraps herself around Chloe. A brief pain flares inside me as they hug, soothed by the sense of rightness this has. I was never meant to be here; she was. Chloe seems confused and awkward with the meeting.

After a time her Max finally lets go, with the briefest of kisses. “You don’t know how long I’ve wanted to do that,” she whispers as she steps away, fingers trailing down Chloe’s arm.

Stepping away from Chloe, but leaving my hand holding hers, I wipe the tears that have formed on my cheeks.

“I-I don’t belong here,” I say, “But I can’t leave things like this-”

“Wait, what?” My words make Chloe jerk in surprise.

Wiping my face again, I ignore her and continue, “we need to save our parents right now.”

“No! What do you mean you don’t belong here!”

The hateful Max seems happy by my words, but the other, Chloe’s Max looks sad, confused, and something else. Looking at Chloe, I say, “We need to save our parents, and then…I’ll leave and put things right.”

Her mouth opens and closes several times. If I was in a better frame of mind, I might make a comment about her looking like a fish out of water. Right now, I just want to get this done before my resolve slips.

Tugging gently on her hand, I walk toward our parents. Another moment I dread is approaching. Telling my parents I can control time is one thing, dealing with my mom’s clear dislike for Chloe is something else.

“The moment our parents are safe we are going to talk!”

I nod at her, trying not to hear the pain and steel in her voice. More things I put there. More reasons for me not to be here.

Deciding to start with who I think will be the easiest, I touch Joyce. She jumps in surprise as I suddenly appear in front of her, holding her hand. Before she can speak I tell Chloe, “Take Joyce’s hand. We need to get all of them, then get away from here.” My voice has become lifeless, like me.

Joyce protests, asking about us and expressing words of relief. Her widened eyes, an intake of breath, hand to the mouth, all tell me she noticed the lions, Sean, and Linda all frozen in time. “Joyce,” I say trying to squeeze warmth into my voice, “Once we have all three of you safe I’ll explain, I promise.” She recovers quickly and gives me her “you better believe you’ll be telling me” look we used to get as kids.

My parents are next. I need several breaths to calm myself. It’s likely better if I bring them both in together. Behind me I hear Joyce asking Chloe something, who ignores her. “Go ahead,” Chloe urges at my hesitation, “I’m with you all the way.”

My free hand clasps my parents joined hands. Their cries of fear and words of soothing come into the stillness, then turn to exclamations as they see me. The jostling from their hugs almost make me lose my grip on Chloe’s hand!

“Max, what happened to you?” My father is reaching toward my face, evidently having seen my bruises.

Shaking my head, I say “Not right now, dad. We really need to get out of here.” That’s when they notice everything around them. In her shock, my mom loses contact with me, freezing in motion. “Dad? Take mom’s hand, please?” He looks puzzled, but takes her hand anyway. Mom returns to the stillness, still protesting something I don’t have time for.

“Ok,” I say, “we need to get out of here. We don’t have much time!” Even with Chloe’s amazing ability I can feel a drain begin at the edge of my control. The pain radiating from all my wounds, and most of all from my heart, adds to that weakening.

“We aren’t going anywhere, Maxine, until you tell us what’s going on!” I flinch at my mom’s use of my full name.

“Hey, Mrs. Caulfield,” Chloe calls and I close my eyes, dreading a confrontation right now. “Your amazing daughter can control time. She’s already saved my ass more times than I can count, and now she’s saving yours! Now let’s move before her power fails.”

I’m not amazing, except at giving pain.

Chloe’s rather rough, but truthful words stops my mom’s protests. I hear gasps from all of them as her words sink in. Tears are in my eyes at her glowing praise, no matter how undeserved it is.

Slowly we move through the thick gravity of the stillness. Chloe instructs everyone not to touch the lions, or anyone else for fear they’ll come with us.

“Oh, my god!” My mom’s outburst causes me to stop. The two Max’s stand in our path. “There are three of you!”

Hateful Max looks at mom and dad, and for the first time I see something else in her eyes. An emotion that is not anger or hate, I think it’s…longing. For a moment I think she’ll launch herself at them. The moment passes and her eyes focus on me. She steps to me and, in a thick voice, says, “You’ll do your best to fix things? To bring…to bring her back?” I nod, trying to maintain my hold on the stillness.

“You promise?”

“I promise.”

She actually smiles at that. In the next moment, she lays her hand on mine and disappears. More gasps sound in the air. Oddly, I feel better. The drain on my control is no longer present.

The other Max steps forward, her mien serious. “You can’t do this!” A weak smile is my only response. Her hands ball into fists and she makes a frustrated sound. Her gaze turns to Chloe, and she says, “You can’t let her do this, Chloe!”

“Do what?”

“Try to switch places with me.”

“How would she do that?” The disbelief in Chloe’s voice is strong.

“How do you think? What did she do to get here?”

A sharp intake of breath tells me Chloe figured it out. Casting a sad glance at Max, I start us moving again. Chloe is dragging at me and my arm trembles from the strain and pain.

There are calls and questions from our parents, but I ignore them all. I can feel Chloe’s eyes on me, but I can’t turn to look. If I look, I won’t just be broken, I’ll be shattered.

Around the first bend in the construction road we come upon several police cars. Inside one of them is David, pointing the way. Looks like he finally got someone to listen.

I pause, wondering if we should do something different. No, Nathan’s body is there. That should be enough. We keep moving.

At last we make it back to the gate which is now standing open. The drain has resurfaced, eating at my resolve. Closing my eyes, I say, “I’m going to bring us back to normal time now.” Unspoken questions crowd the surrounding air, but it’s Chloe that speaks.

“What are you planning to do?” I shake my head, not wanting to have this conversation now or ever. Letting go of her hand, I clasp my arms around myself, alone in the stillness.

“You don’t have to do this.” Her soft words pierce the conflicting emotions that sound so loud in my head. A touch on my arm, as soft as her words, opens my eyes. Chloe’s Max, the rightful Max for this timeline stands in front of me.

“Yes I do,” I say, more angrily than I intended. “I’ve ruined everything! Chloe deserves…she deserves someone like you, whole and supportive. She doesn’t need me! All I bring her is pain!”

Her arms are around me, much like mine were a few nights ago. “You’re wrong! Will you at least talk to her first? Let her know why? If you do this and it works…she’ll blame herself for not being good enough to keep you.”

Her words stun me and cut through my self-hate. Of course. I’m being selfish again. I nod. “Yes. I’ll talk to her first.”

I look at the group of people around me, frozen in time. People that care about Max and Chloe, and a smile spreads across my face despite my dark thoughts. They’ll have good support once I’m gone. That satisfies me.

Walking to my side of the car, I let time resume. Max disappears the moment I do. Our parents stumble and stammer, surprised by my disappearance, but Chloe finds me immediately. Her eyes are slitted, her expression unreadable. “I know you will all have questions,” I say with a wince as three pairs of eyes focus on me. “Can we…can we go get something to eat and I’ll do my best to explain?”

Joyce seems to recover quickly, saying, “we can go to my house and I’ll make us some dinner.”

Chloe puts her hand on her mom and says, “That’s not possible. They destroyed our house.” Joyce seems to take the news ok, but she’s silent so I don’t really know.

Are you still with me, Max?

**_Yes._ **

_Yes._

A little relief lessens my mood at their response although I didn’t expect both of them. Chloe and her mom are talking softly as I get in the car. My action seems to spur the rest to get in. We drive away, my eyes focused on the passing scenery. Fingers wrap around my hand, for once Chloe reaching out to me.

I try to give her a smile, I really do. I’m just not feeling it. We’ll get to some place to eat, and then everyone will look at me. Even though it’s my parents and Joyce, I don’t do well with that kind of attention. Chloe’s looks will be worse. And afterward, I’ll have to say goodbye.

**_You don’t have to say goodbye._ **

Before I know it, the car is parked and Chloe and our parents are getting out. Slowly I get out, finally realizing we’re at the diner. Part of me thinks this is a bad idea, but the rest of me just wants this over with.

We file in, there’s a bunch of excited cries as people recognize Joyce. They crowd around, asking all sorts of questions. I squeeze past them and amble down the row of booths. Stopping in front of the booth Chloe and I sat in last October, I let my fingers brush the graffiti carved into the top.

Sliding along the bench, I let my gaze wander out the window. Warmth beside me tells me Chloe joined me. Her hand again takes mine, holding it tight. I hear the others slide into the seat opposite.

Forcing my eyes away from the window, I look at our parents. Joyce, Vanessa, Ryan, all lined up and squished into the booth. There’s such an array of emotions on all their faces, it’s overwhelming. The server places waters, and drink orders taken as we sit awkwardly.

“So-uh,” my dad begins, “time control?” I nod my head.

My mom’s eyes are fixed on my hand in Chloe’s. The way her brows furrow and her mouth is working on something, I know she disapproves. That cuts through my funk and sour mood, bringing anger in.

“I don’t care, what you think, mom,” I hiss, meaner than I intend. My dad tries to interrupt but I speak over him. “Chloe and I are together. She’s the most amazing person I know. If you can’t accept her for who she is…” I trail off. I know I should leave things in a better state for Max. She doesn’t need me making a mess of this as well.

My words shocked my mom into speechlessness, and my dad says something I don’t hear.

Taking a breath to calm myself, I say, “Listen, I’m sorry mom for talking like that right now. When we talked earlier, and you said those things about her…it hurt, more than you realize. I know she’s made mistakes. So have I, worse than-” I break off before I break down.

My coffee arrives then and I focus on it. “Sweetie,” my mom says, “I’m sorry too. I didn’t give you an opportunity to explain anything. I…leaped to conclusions without hearing either of you out.”

I nod my head, still not in control enough to look up or respond.

“How long have you had your…power?” My dad asking again. I don’t respond, wiping my nose and my eyes. Chloe comes to my rescue.

“She uh, she’s had them since last October Mr. Caulfield.”

“Just Ryan, Chloe.”

“Ok…Ryan.”

“How long have you known about her ability?”

“Since the first time she used them. She saved me from being killed by Nathan Prescott.” She pauses and I hear her take a long drink of her soda. “Let me tell you just how awesome and smart your daughter is!” She launches into an abbreviated telling of the last six months.

I tune it out, focused instead on the tasks I still need to do. Find a way to undo the ending of paralyzed Chloe’s life. Find a way to return to the timeline where I let Chloe die. Just that thought causes my throat to tighten and I fight not to let any tears shed.

Amidst the telling the waitress takes our orders. I’m so preoccupied I barely notice that Chloe orders for me.

When she’s done with the story, they’re all looking at me. I wince and hide behind my hands. Right about then, the diner door slams open and I hear footsteps running to our booth.

“Joyce! You’re ok!”

Joyce responds with a cry of delight and there’s a shuffling of bodies as my parents let her out. I watch her and David embrace from the corner of my eye. Chloe uses the opportunity to bring me into a hug also.

“Are you doing ok,” she whispers. I shake my head. I remind myself to be truthful for her. I need to leave things in a good place for her and the proper Max.

She kisses the top of my head and holds me even tighter. Through my hair I see my mom looking at us. She doesn’t look disapproving, more sad than anything.

David is telling our parents about arresting Sean and Linda. My ears prick up at that. Joyce hushes him and retrieves a chair to place at the side of the table. The adults all seat themselves, with my dad opposite me, and Joyce at the end by David.

Whatever powers or abilities Sean and Linda have, they don’t use them against the police officers. It sounds like they are arrested on suspicion of kidnapping and the murder of Nathan. I bet they don’t spend a single night in jail or prison.

My dad speaks up to give David a very condensed version of how we got here. As he explains, my heart sinks further. There are too many people that know what I can do. Having David know makes me uncomfortable.

Food arrives, but I’m not hungry. Chloe, as usual, inhales hers. She only argues with David once. In other circumstances, that would make me happy.

I pick at my food, letting the syrup make my waffle super soggy. “You need to eat,” Chloe whispers. I shake my head and let my fork fall.

Clearing his throat, my dad says, “So, I’m not sure I understand everything Chloe told us, punk-Max.” He was about to call me punkin, a name he seldom uses anymore. A faint smile graces my lips as I think about the correction.

He clears his throat again. “From what Chloe tells me, you should be happy, but you aren’t. What’s wrong?”

Steeling myself, I look at each of them. My dad has his “you can tell me anything Max” look. My mom is somewhere between “my baby’s growing up so fast” and “Maxine, you did a good job.” Joyce, well Joyce has that look she’d get when Chloe and I were young and up to no good as pirates, her “you girls have fun, but no messes, ya hear?” I don’t even look at David.

“Dad,” I begin, “I’ve made a mess of everything. All I’ve done is more harm than good.”

“Those are her words, not yours.” Chloe breathes those words into my ear.

“I-I’m not even your daughter. The one you know? The one you took to hockey games? She’s trapped in here!” I tap my head. “You saw her when I saved you, she and another Max whose life I ruined.”

“That sounds a little harsh, dear, can you really say-”

“No dad,” I say and my voice is dead. “It’s true. Where I’m from? Chloe is dead because I let her die. I’m so selfish all I could think about is how much I missed her, so I traveled to this timeline so I could screw up her life as well!”

“Maxine,” my mom says.

My hand slams the table and everyone jumps. “No! Stop trying to say it’s not that bad when it is!” Chloe’s hands are on me, trying to pull me back as I rise. My parents are very surprised at how I speak to them. A memory of telling them to “fuck off I’m staying here” comes to mind and I slump back.

They don’t understand. They can’t understand. Getting mad at them won’t make them understand. Without even realizing it I enter the stillness.

My mind is telling me to leave, to go away and do this on my own, so I try to climb over the back of the booth. I accidentally brush Chloe, bringing her into the stillness with me. Before I can back away, her hand is on me.

“What are you doing, Max?”

“Leaving.”

Silence fills the void between answers, stretching forever in a place without time.

“Without me?” There’s such hurt in her voice! More hurt I put into her.

“I-I’m sorry Chloe, I really am! But I can’t take this anymore. I have to go do what needs done and leave. Then you and and her can be happy again.”

She scrambles after me, over the booth, holding on tight. As I try to walk toward the door, she pulls me against her. I feel her again, just like she held me in the shower. “Who says I’m not already happy?”

Oh, lord do those words hurt! It breaks the dam in me I was using to control myself and it lets loose across her shirt. Snot and tears and anger and loathing and more spill across her. “How can you be,” I say across broken sobs. “How can you be happy with me when I’m ruined, and I ruin what you had? Even my saving you with that note ruined you, because you knew that no matter what you built with her, I would come tear it down!”

She doesn’t respond. She just holds me. When it seems I’ve stopped crying, she says, “let’s go somewhere else.” She leads me out to the car and we leave. I let time resume when we are away from the diner.

She takes us to the beach, where we walk along the sand holding hands. She doesn’t ask questions and I don’t offer an explanation. I just want us to be together. It feels like a timer is set on my happiness and it’s almost out. That must be what those six months were like for them.

We stand looking at the water. Like before, I’m looking at her, not the scenery. I want to drink in every moment I have with her before I lose her again.

“Like what you see?”

I nod. Between the sound of the surf and her, I am feeling calmer, more in control again. My decision remains the same.

I look away from her knowing what will pull my eyes. And it does. To our right, atop the bluff, is the lighthouse. Squeezing Chloe’s hand I say, “take me up there, please?” With a quick kiss on my nose, she nods and pulls me away from the surf.

Some twenty minutes later we stand next to the lighthouse, studying the surf far below. It’s fitting that we are here, a place of decisions.

In my mind I see more history than I care to. A storm sweeping down on the town. An impossible choice. Kate with her arm around me. “I never thought I’d stand here with you again, Chloe.” My voice is wistful, and laced with pain.

Pulling me close, she puts her arms around me. “This is where you had to make that choice, isn’t it?” I nod, not trusting my voice at the moment. My arms go around her and I bury my face in her shoulder. We stand there a long time. She’s stroking my hair and back. I’m content to just feel her next to me. Alive.

“I don’t want you to go.”

**_Listen to her._ **

“I-”

“You deserve a happy ending too, Max.”

“But-”

She pushes me away just enough so she can look into my eyes. “I mean it. You weren’t happy where you were. Do you think you can just go back and your life will be ok?”

**_Listen to her._ **

I turn my face away from her, torn between the decision I made, and what both of them are telling me. Seeing a way forward, I say, “I…I can’t promise anything right now. I’m-I don’t trust myself.” Looking up at her, I continue, “Can you help me with one thing? Help me make peace with hateful Max.”

Her fingers brush my bangs away from my forehead, then stray into my hair. “Yeah, I can do that.” She places a kiss on my forehead, then says, “What do we need to do?”

“I need to go back to the timeline where…I saved William only this time not end your life.”

“Damn! You don’t pick easy ones do you?”

I shake my head, her words forcing a small smile.

“Would it be enough to jump in earlier and leave a message, like you did here?”

I ponder this a while. “Yes,” I say, “That should do it. That’s how I stopped you from entering the Vortex Club party. The only problem is, I don’t have any pictures of that week. And I destroyed the picture I used to stop your dad from leaving.”

“Well, I think I can help there. Let’s get back to the motel. I may have something.”

We return to the car and she drives us to the motel. Once back in our room, she digs in her back pack and pulls out a box. I recognize it as the one she pulled from the ruin of her home. Opening it, she digs through its contents and retrieves a photo.

I take it from her hand and gasp. It’s the picture of her and I that I used to try and save her dad! “I thought I destroyed this,” I exclaim.

“Well, Photo Max, you may have destroyed it in your timeline. You didn’t destroy it in this one. Plus, I had my own copy.” She looks away. “I…it was the last picture of us together and happy.”

I’m so happy I actually start bouncing a little on my toes. Until reality hits me at least. “Oh! This-this won’t work!”

“Why not?”

“Because I need to get to the time line where you become paralyzed.” My heart sinks as I say this. It seemed like we were so close.

“Can’t you just…I don’t know redo what you did last October?”

“If I do that, it will change this time line. I’d come back to-”

“Oh!”

“Yeah.”

_I…can help._

My head snaps up at the words. “What?”

“What?”

_I can help you get there, the same way I got in your head._

“How?”

_“_ How what, Max?”

Oh! “I’m so sorry, Chloe, I’m talking to…well hateful Max. She says she can help me get to the right time line.”

_It’s easier if I show you._

“How can you show me?”

_Enter the stillness._

While I’m excited about this possibility, I’m also suspicious. It wasn’t that long ago that she was trying to hurt me. Reaching out I take Chloe’s hand and enter the stillness.

Moments after I enter there’s another sharp pain in my head, bringing me to my knees. Chloe catches me with a gasp, pulling me back to my feet. “Are you ok,” she asks, her eyes searching my face.

My hand is on my head, trying to rub the pain away. “She’ll be ok.” Max has some of her usual grit in her voice. She’s standing away from us, cradling one of her arms. Gradually the pain ebbs and I don’t need to lean on Chloe.

“Will my head hurt each time you appear in the stillness?”

She shrugs. “I don’t know. You’re Max Prime, you figure it out.”

“Why are you being so mean of a sudden?”

Her steely eyes lock onto me, jaw muscles working. “Because, I’m trying to stay in control of myself. It was easy with all those other people around and we were saving our parents. The last time I was actually with her-” Her voice breaks off in a strangling sound.

Realizing what she means I step toward her and put my hand on her shoulder. “I’m sorry,” I say, “I’m just so used to you treating me badly. I didn’t think.”

She’s eyeing me and Chloe with a look twisted between longing, sadness, and bitterness. After a long pause, she runs past me and throws her arms around Chloe. She’s so sudden that Chloe is driven back a couple of steps, almost pulling her free of my grasp.

When she finally pulls away, her face is streaked with tears. “I-I’m sorry,” she says.

“Hey,” Chloe says, “I’m not going to say no to a hug from you.”

Her face is lowered though and she won’t look at Chloe after that. Turning to face only me, she says, “I think I can teach you how to jump into other shards.”

“Shards? What, did you break a mirror?”

Ignoring Chloe’s lame joke, she says, “Shards are what I call the alternate time lines. In theory there’s an infinite number of them. You might think that would make it impossible to find the one you want. It’s actually easy, if you know what you’re looking for.”

“Ok, how do we access these shards?”

“Once you’re in the stillness, you’ve taken the first step. You’re between moments of time, between moments of possibilities. It makes it easier to slip out of your time into some place else.”

“Your next step is to find the edge of the moment, where it stretches from reality into the possibility. For me it was a kind of…squishiness in the moment. At the edge is where you are able to step from here into the possibilities.”

“Squishiness?”

“Um, yeah. Sorry I can’t be more specific.”

“So she finds this ‘squishiness’ then what, she steps through into -?”

Blocking their conversation from my senses, I focus on what she just told me. I do share some of Chloe’s skepticism. It sounds so unreal. Of course stopping time sounds like that as well. Breathing out a sigh, I focus on my power and the stillness around us, seeking something that seems like what she’s talking about.

Ignoring the squishiness part of her description, I look for something else. I decide to look for an edge, a door, or anything like a weak part of the reality around us. The banter between Chloe and hateful Max fades into background noise as I sink myself into reality around us. It’s like I’m both in myself, and not part of myself. The experience is not entirely unfamiliar as I often feel disconnected.

Diving into reality though, that’s an entirely different matter. It’s like, well I really don’t know how to describe it. Maybe like wearing a friend’s clothes. Familiar, but not a good fit, and not something you’re really comfortable with. It’s enough though as I sense something about the world around me. Not a squishiness, more like it’s permeable.

Paying attention to that sensation, I narrow my attention and push toward it with my hand. There’s a slight sucking noise and my hand slips through into nothingness. Surprised I leap backward into Chloe, knocking both of us down.

“Did you find it,” the other Max asks. There’s a vibrant energy to her voice.

“I think so,” I say as I rise. Reaching down, I grasp Chloe, bringing her back into the stillness with us. “It’s not squishy though, more like pushing through jello.” I finish helping Chloe to her feet and look at Max.

“Can she come with me?”

Shaking her head, she says, “No, I don’t think so.”

“But you don’t really know, do you?”

Sighing she says, “No, I don’t.”

“So how do I find the right reality to move into?”

“You just want it.”

“That seems way too easy.” I have to agree with Chloe. What the other Max said sounds too good to be true.

“Hey, I don’t know how it works. That’s how it worked for me. I wanted to find the Max that took Chloe away from me. When I stepped from my reality, I ended up here.”

“Are you stuck here?”

“No. I went back, once. Time is relative among the realities. I’m still in the stillness in my reality. No time has passed there.”

My head is starting to hurt from all this and I raise a hand to rub my forehead.

“When you came here, you got stuck in Max’s head. You didn’t take control of her. Won’t the same happen to her?”

She shrugs, looking away. “Look. I know as much about this as you. I don’t know why I could only talk to her, just like I don’t know why the Max you overwrote stuck around. It’s not like time powers and their anomalies were a subject in school.”

“Ok you two. I know what I need to do, just give me some silence for a moment.”

“Sure Max.” Chloe gives me a weak smile, while the other Max turns her back on us.

What I promised Max, it looks like I’ll actually be able to do. That knowledge fills me with all sorts of emotion. Uncertainty about its success. Doubt about my ability to make good decisions. Fear about where this new ability will lead me.

One thing I am certain about: if there is way to make life better for the other Chloe, I will. Max still has her shoulders hunched and her back to me. Making my decision, I let go of Chloe’s hand. She starts to say something as I loosen my grip, but I’m too fast. I don’t want to chance something happening to her.

Rubbing Max’s shoulder, I give her my best smile when she turns around. It falters partway through and she responds in kind. Without another thought I think about what I want and push through the gauze of reality.

* * *

Light blinds me for a moment and I blink and shade my eyes.

“Come on, Maxine or we’ll be late!”

“One moment, dad!”

My eyes focus and I find myself standing outside our house in Seattle. My parents are getting into the car. Memory comes back and my mind focuses on one thing: I have to save Chloe.

Patting myself, I notice I don’t have my phone on me. “Hold on, dad,” I call as I turn and turn for the front door, “I forgot my phone!”

“I swear,” my mom starts saying as I disappear into the house. Running up to my room, I ignore the strange sense of familiarity. I’m in a different timeline, but it feels like mine.

On my desk sits my phone. Heart beating from nervousness and from running up the stairs, I grab it, unlock it, and find Chloe’s number. For just a moment my thumb poises above her entry. A thought occurs to me that I could use this ability to-no! I have to focus.

Touching the entry, I bring the phone to my ear and listen to it dial. It rings once, twice, and I begin to doubt and fear she won’t answer. I know we had better contact in this timeline, surely she’ll answer?

“Max, is this really you?”

“Y-yes.”

“This is totes cool! Your post cards and letters were awesome, thanks for sending them!”

We start talking like no time has passed and I find myself on the floor, back against the wall. Time passes as we reconnect.

“Maxine! What are you doing - wait, are you crying? What’s the matter honey?”

My mom stands in the door to my room. At her words I touch my face and my fingertips come away damp. Hearing Chloe so full of joy and life, just like I remember, has cut me to the heart. Another wound I helped make deeper in my timeline.

My mom approaches and kneels before me.

“Hey Max, you still there? You still haven’t told me why you called.”

The tears on my fingers sharpen my focus. There’s something I need to do, a promise to keep. Looking at my mom I hold up my hand, palm outward.

“I-I decided letters and post cards weren’t enough any more and was wondering if we could get together somehow.”

“Hell yes, sista! You know I have a car now, I could drive-”

“No! I mean, I wouldn’t want to put you out. Maybe I could come down there?” I’m looking at my mom who now wears a frown. Please, I mouth to her, please?

Sighing mom puts a hand on her hip and says, “We can discuss it over dinner. You know, what we are supposed to be doing right now?”

“Is that your mom I hear? Tell Mrs. C hi for me, will you?”

“Listen Chloe, I gotta go, but I’ll find a way to come down to Arcadia Bay this weekend.”

“I’m holding you to that, Maximus. It was awesome hearing from you. It blew my evening plans out of the water.”

Laughing I say, “Long Max Silver always gets her target!”

There’s a strange silence at the other end that stretches out. My mom starts flipping her fingers and I rise, ready to leave once the conversation is over.

“Captain Chloe Bluebeard still be needin’ a first mate, are you applyin?” Her voice! Is that hope I hear?

“Arrrr, yes, I be applyin’” I say in my pirate drawl. Ugh, I used to be better at this!

“Then we be sailin’ the seas this weekend!” There’s silence again before she says, “Seriously Maximus, it was awesome hearing from you.”

“It was awesome talking to you, too. Look I have to go. We’re supposed to be at dinner right now.”

“See you this weekend then!”

“See you this weekend, Captain Bluebeard!”

I end the call and look at my mom. Putting on my best smile, I say, “Well Mother, what do you think about Arcadia Bay this weekend?”

* * *

The motel room takes shape around me, going from hazy outlines to firm details in seconds. Max is still there, shoulders hunched. A touch to her elbow raises her head and she looks at me.

“Did you do it?” Her voice is flat and hollow.

Nodding, I say, “Yeah, she should be just fine.” Relief floods her eyes and for the first time I see the glimmer of hope and happiness in her face.

“Listen, if you can jump to other realities too, why didn’t you just go back and change things?”

The sadness comes back to her eyes as she says, “That’s the first thing I tried. I’m not able to go back to events in my own timeline.”

“Wait, are you not able to rewind?”

Her head shakes in response. “No, my power doesn’t work that way. I can stop time and visit other realities, well at least this one. I’m not able to travel to events on my time line.”

That information causes me pause. She can’t rewind, nor travel to other points in her time line. The Max from this timeline never learned how to photo jump. There’s an idea forming, but I push it aside for now. There’s something else I need to tell her.

“You should know. I didn’t go back and stop myself from ending Chloe’s life. I-”

She goes from being content to full-on hate in a second. Hands balled and face twisted she steps toward me and I stumble away. “What! But you just said you-”

“Listen, Max,” I actually raise my voice at her to get her to listen. Placing my hands on her shoulders, I say, “Listen. I went back to the day she had the wreck. I called her. We talked long enough that she wasn’t out driving. She couldn’t get into that accident.”

Her face goes slack as she hears my words. Suddenly her arms are around me, squeezing me. “Thank you,” she whispers in my ear. Then she’s gone.

I stand by myself a while in the stillness, Chloe frozen beside me. Part of me is tempted to use my new ability to change things, to fix the problems I created. Run off right now and do it, that part urges.

Part of growing though is accepting the mistakes we’ve made. Accepting them, learning from them, and moving on. I’m tired of fighting myself over my decisions. I need my partner, even if it will be for the last time.

“No!” Chloe shouts as I restore time. She stumbles away from me, not seeing that I’ve moved. Stopping she looks around, clearly confused. Seating myself on the bed, I call to her.

She looks around. “Max!” Her voice is filled with warning. I pat the bed. Reluctantly she sits next to me. Her face is hard and her body rigid.

“I did it,” I say without energy.

“What exactly did you do?” Her voice is filled with the hurt I put into it.

“Stopped her Chloe from getting into a wreck.”

“That’s more than you agreed to.”

“I know,” I say as I lay back on the bed. She reclines also. “But it was the right thing to do. At least I think so.”

The ceiling above is stained and cracked. Its winding crevasses capture my eyes. How like me, broken and ugly.

“What now, Maximus?”

Her use of the nickname gives me pause. That’s what hateful Max’s Chloe called me just minutes ago. I roll onto my side and bring my legs onto the bed. “Now, I need your help.”

“How can I help Super Max?”

Tracing a pattern on her arm, I say, “I…I need to fix things here.”

She rolls onto her side. “Are they broken?”

Gasping, I say, “Are you forgetting?! Your girlfriend is stuck in my head! I don’t belong here-”

“My girlfriend is right here.” Her soft words cut through my protest as surely as if she shouted them. Her hand rests on mine, warm and tender.

Girlfriend? My heart sinks within me as I hear those words. Even now she doesn’t want to face the truth. Who could blame her after I destroyed her world.

“No, Chloe, I’m not-”

“Ok, yes I haven’t asked you yet. Max Caulfield, will you be my girlfriend?”

Oh! Why does she have to make this so hard! I sit up and turn away from her. She’s making this so hard. Standing I walk to the table. I need some space to think and be firm.

“Chloe,” my voice chokes as I stare at the wall. “Your girlfr-”

“Dammit, don’t make this so hard!” Her sharp words shock me into turning around. She’s also risen from the bed in full pissed-off mode, even though I see a tear trickle down one cheek.

She dashes the tear aside with the swipe of a hand and draws herself up. I began to speak again, but she cuts me off with the wave of a hand. When she speaks again its a strangled mix of hurt and something else.

“Listen, Max of Mine, she and I have been talking, and-”

“Wait! She? Who have you been talking to?”

Her face lights up in her “I know something you don’t” smile. “The Max you replaced, silly Maxine.” What she says numbs my brain. I don’t even protest her use of my full name. She’s saying something else that doesn’t sink in, I’m so distracted by her revelation.

“H-How?”

“She listened really well to your doppelgänger, and figured out how to bounce from you, to me.”

Those words made me do my best fish imitation, I’m sure. She relaxes and steps into my space, her hands taking mine. “She doesn’t want you to go. She’s concerned you won’t listen to her, so she came and talked to me. And I’m in agreement. We want you to stay. I want you to stay.”

I look down at a loss for words. Doubt about myself. Guilt over all the pain I’ve inflicted. These feelings and more collide with the simple truth that Chloe wants me to stay. Wants ME.

Lifting my head, I look at her, hope welling within me. Like responding to a rousing call from a general, the guilt and doubt and all those dark thoughts overwhelm that brief hope. The smile that was spreading across my face slips into a frown. Pulling from her grasp I turn away.

Everything I do brings her pain. If I stay…I can’t do that to her! My hands ball into fists and I want to strike something. Before I can, arms wrap around me. “Take us into the stillness, Max.”

“Why?” My word cuts her, her body tensing against mine.

“She wants to talk to you.”

She. The rightful Max. Without a thought I bring us between moments.

There’s a cry of pain behind me and Chloe’s body goes slack. Spinning I find her crumpled on the floor, no longer with me in the stillness. Across from her Max looks at me, her eyes focused intently. Only a moment do I hesitate before I crouch and touch Chloe.

“Damn, Max. That fucking hurts!” She’s rubbing her head as I help her up. I’m guessing since Max was in her head, she felt the same pain I do each time they came into the stillness from me.

Helping her to the bed, we seat ourselves. Swatting Chloe’s hand away I rub at her head.

“You can’t go back.” I ignore Max’s words. Both of them are intent on this and I don’t understand it. Don’t they see how much pain I put them through? What kind of life would she have if I stayed?

Max crouches in front of me. “Look at what you’re doing, Max. The moment Chloe needs help, the moment she’s in pain, you drop everything to help her. You’re meant to be here with her.”

Dropping my hand from Chloe’s head I stare into my own blue eyes. Between she and Chloe a pressure begins building in me, making it hard to breath. Standing, I step away from them. I can’t listen to them. I need to…I need to return their happiness to them.

“Why? Why are you doing this? I’m trying to make things right for both of you!” Tears are welling again spurred by anger and frustration but I won’t let them show.

“And who’s going to make things right for you?”

“It doesn’t matter if things are right for me. I…I don’t matter, Chloe. I’ve never mattered.”

Hands grab my shoulders and I’m spun around. For a moment I think I’m back in one of Hateful Max’s nightmares and I shrink back in fear.

“That’s the worst fucking thing I’ve ever heard you say!” Chloe’s eyes blaze as she speaks. “You are the most amazing person I know. You matter to me.”

“No,” I spit back, pointing at the other Max, “She’s the one that matters to you. Not me. Never me.”

At my words she steps to our side, laying her hand on my shoulder as well. “Why is it so important that you return? That you leave us?”

“What?!” I look at her dumbfounded. “Why are we talking in circles? I.don’t.belong.here. You do.”

Stepping closer, she says, “you don’t belong there either. At least here…you have us.”

“And there I have Kate.”

“Kate. As wonderful as Kate is, has Kate ever made you feel as alive as Chloe? Has Kate ever given you that sense of rightness you get when you’re with Chloe?”

“Has Kate ever gotten you to break out of your shell? Have you ever wanted to be the reason she smiles?”

Spitting my words in frustration, I say, “Why won’t you let me give you the happiness that you deserve!”

“If the cost is your happiness, that price is too high!”

I glare at the two of them. Both using their knowledge of me to convince me. And damnit it’s working.

After several seconds my glare wilts. “It’s not right for me to stay here. No matter how much-” my voice catches at that and I can’t continue.

Max pulls me into a hug. “It’s not right for you to go back either. I’m afraid, Max, afraid you won’t last.”

“What do you mean she won’t last.”

Max is silent, but I know what she means. It’s the last thing I haven’t shared with Chloe. I sag in Max’s arms. “Will you tell her, or shall I,” she asks. I look at Chloe, waiting expectantly, confusion on her face.

“You’re stronger than you realize,” Max whispers, “stronger than me. Stronger than that other Max. You’ve just…you’ve beat yourself up so much over the past six months you’ve forgotten how strong you are.”

Nodding, I straighten up, flash Max a smile and step to Chloe. Taking her hand in mine, I lead us to the bed to sit.

For many long minutes I stare at her hand. Neither of them say a word, just waiting for me to speak.

“You say I’m strong,” I begin, my voice hesitant, “but I’m not. I’m weak. When I let you go…” now I’m looking at Chloe, seeing both who she is now and the distraught girl on the cliff, “I thought I could do it. We thought I could do it.”

“That first week was easy. After Nathan shot you and I helped take Jefferson down, there was so much going on it was easy to be strong. In between those moments I missed you. That’s when I started to realize my role in all this, how my not being the friend you needed led to you being shot-”

Chloe starts to interrupt here but Max jumps in, shushing her.

“My guilt and lack of self-worth and hatred grew and grew. Until…until I couldn’t take it anymore. Every fucking day. Every place, every moment was a reminder you were no longer alive. And it was my fault. I should have been there for you. But I wasn’t. Because I’m weak. So…”

My hand goes to my face now as shame and anger at myself and more collide in me. I’m so fucking worthless! Before I realize it my right hand has made a fist and it smashes into my left shoulder.

“Max! No” Hands scramble on my arm, holding it back.

“Let me go!”

“No, Max.”

“Why! It’s what I deserve!”

“That…doesn’t make any sense. No one deserves pain.”

I strain and when Chloe’s grip doesn’t let up I ball up my left fist and slam it into my head.

“No!” Tears are in Chloe’s voice as she and Max wrestle me to the bed. It takes both of them to hold me down, to keep me from treating myself the way I deserve.

“You don’t deserve pain, Max! You don’t!”

“What was it Chloe told you on the cliff? Do you remember?”

I do remember and as the words flood through my mind, my struggles stop. Both Chloe and Max lay on my arms, panting.

“Are you…are you going to tell me why you won’t last if you go back?”

Her words cause me to struggle again. Tears do come now, as I’m frustrated from being denied the pain I so deserve.

“I don’t deserve good things,” I shout, “I don’t deserve you! I don’t deserve kindness! I don’t deserve to live!”

Neither of them respond to my outburst. They continue clinging to my arms, which I try flexing from time to time.

“Do you mean…” Chloe starts, then stops the sentence, hesitation in her voice. “Did you try killing yourself?”

There it is. No use in denying it now. “Yes.”

Blue eyes push into my view.

Before she can speak pain lances my head and I cry out.

“Max! What-?”

The new pain ebbs and I feel the weight on my arms lift. Sitting up, I rub my head. There’s a commotion on the floor where the two Maxes are fighting. Chloe leaps into the fray, pulling them apart. They stand glaring at each other. Chloe pushes the hateful one away and takes rightful Max to me.

Hateful Max’s foot scuffs the floor as she looks at us. “I…wanted to come and tell you how things worked out.” Her eyes constantly go from me to Chloe while she speaks. “Chloe graduated Blackwell with honors. When she found out I was coming there for my senior year she held off going to college for a year. We’re planning on going to the same college.”

“My life…her life…we’re doing good, Max. I…I can’t thank you enough.”

She looks at us. Two angry faces and one broken one stare at her. “What’s going on?”

Rightful Max leaps to her feet and gets in her face. “We’re dealing with the results of the fucking mess you created here!”

Max steps back, her hands coming up defensively as the other Max gets right in her face. “You’re so selfish. All you could think about was yourself. Poor me. My life’s a mess. That didn’t give you the right to screw with hers.”

“What gave her the right to screw with mine?”

“I…didn’t have the right, just like I don’t have the right to screw up yours and Chloe’s lives.”

Both Max’s are looking at me and Chloe’s hand closes on mine. “Look,” I say, “I’m sorry I screwed up everyone’s lives. I get it, I’m a colossal fuck-up good only for screwing up people’s lives.”

To all our surprise it’s Hateful Max that interrupts me. “No!” Pushing aside rightful Max she stands in front of me. “I was wrong. Don’t go repeating the words I gave you when I was bitter and angry.”

“They aren’t your words. You saw my life before here, both of you did. ‘Max fuck-up Caulfield’ that’s what I used to whisper to myself. My words, not yours. All you did was take the guilt and hate I already had for myself and fed it.”

“Go on, back to your Chloe. I’m glad she’s doing better.”

“No.”

“No?” I look up at her.

“Yes, I fed what you already had. Yes, I…hurt you in ways you didn’t deserve. Yet when you had the opportunity to help me, you…you didn’t do the bare minimum to help. You didn’t hold that against me. You gave Chloe, and me, a new life. You did more than I ever expected, more than I deserved.”

She kneels and takes my hand. “Max. I was so angry when I came to you. So angry…all I could think about was hurting you like you hurt me. The thought you might help me if I asked never occurred to me. But you would have, wouldn’t you?”

Would I? I look into her bright blue eyes trying to convince me of something and I realize no convincing is needed. “Yes. If you’d asked, I’d have helped you.”

“And you’d have done exactly as you did today, wouldn’t you? Go beyond what I asked and given Chloe the best life you could.”

No thought is needed to answer that. “Yes, I would.”

Her head leans forward to rest on our clasped hands. “You are the best of all the Max’s,” her words are muffled as she speaks toward the floor. “And you also have the worst of our problem: lack of self-worth.”

Looking up at me, she studies my face a few moments. The others are quiet, observing the odd exchange. “Have these two been trying to convince you of your worth?”

My head nods.

“And how many people have to tell you before you’ll believe it?”

I stay silent. I don’t want to think about that.

“Listen to them, Max. Accept their help. Don’t be…don’t be like me and hurt the ones who could actually help you.” Her voice breaks at the end and she turns her head away.

“I’m going now,” she whispers, “I came to tell you how wonderful you are…and to say I’m sorry for treating you the way I did. I won’t ask for your forgiveness because I don’t deserve it.”

She looks me squarely in the eyes and says, “But you need to forgive yourself. You do deserve it!”

Before we can do or say anything, she vanishes. Chloe and rightful Max immediately crowd to my sides, their arms around me.

“I hate to say it,” Chloe says, “but she’s right.”

Again I nod, my mind rather numb from that exchange. I think about other things Chloe, Kate, and these other Maxes have said. There’s a step I need to take and it feels so wrong, so painful to take. I need to believe them.

“Max,” Chloe’s voice is so soft and there’s a tremor to it. I look at her. “Before she…hateful Max, came, she-” she breaks off, her eyes wide and not meeting mine.

“Max said you wouldn’t last if you went back. Does she mean…” Oh no Chloe, don’t look at me like that!

Their arms tighten on me. “Do you want me to tell her,” Max whispers in my ear. My hands claw up to latch on their arms as I feel that same desire to feed my pain seep into them.

Shaking my head, I say, “She’s not wrong…Kate, as special as she is, is not you, Chloe. When I go back-”

“If you go back,” Chloe cuts in heatedly.

She’s not wrong, but I can’t bring myself to tell her that. Nor can I bring myself to continue.

Closing my eyes I draw a deep breath, hold it, then let it out. I concentrate on my chest, my back, my stomach as I do that and I realize I’m trembling. Everything I’ve built up over the last six months screams at me to deny everything they said. But Max was right with that question she asked, how many people will it take before I believe it?

My hands are straining, aching to do something with the emotions roiling inside me. Without a word, Chloe and Max take my hands and hold them. They tremble in their grip, eager to deliver the pain that I long for.

There’s so much pressure inside me, swirling emotions and conflicting thoughts. My mind and heart and body seem like they’ll explode. A tightness wraps around my throat, stifling my breathing. Fighting it, I open my mouth to tell them but the words just won’t come! It’s like a giant nothingness has stolen the words away. Think Max! Think!

A long explanation isn’t needed, nor a rehearsed speech. A word forms before me, a word I think I can say. A word I know I can say.

“Help.”

It explodes from me in a rush of air.

“Me.”

Chloe tightens her arm around me.

“Help me. Please!”

“We’re here to help you, Max. Just like you’ve always been here to help us.”


	15. Treasure

Waves roll on the beach, diminishing into a soft flow washing into feet and sand structures. Laughter and the din of voices dance across the air. Chloe and I walk hand in hand through the surf. The water and sand of southern California is so much better than that of Arcadia Bay.

“Thank you for coming with me,” Chloe says as we stop to look across the breaking surf.

“Where you go, I will go, Chloe.”

She looks back at me. Her crooked smile makes the light in her eyes dance. She pulls me into an embrace that I enter willingly.

“Still, coming with me on a trip to say goodbye to Rachel? I couldn’t expect that.” Her hand brushes through my hair. That old instinct to turn away, letting the compliment slide off me, rises. Its hold, strong and comfortable, beckons.

“That’s what love is about, isn’t it?” My words are my answer to Chloe and that old habit.

“You know what I mean.”

And I do. Rachel had often spoken about Long Beach to Chloe. The two had planned to come here at some point. Instead, Mark Jefferson happened and those plans were forever ruined.

Only that’s not what Chloe means.

Just a few months ago I stood on a brink. Stay and accept being with Chloe, accepting that I have value and worth. Or leave, going back into the darkness of my previous life, likely to a disastrous end.

The path to this beach was longer than the several hundred miles we drove. That night I finally told her everything. I let her in, let her see all my dark places. And she loved me even more.

“You’re my hero, Max,” she whispers.

Wrapping my arms around her, I lean into her, my head on her chest. Laughter consumes me as she tickles my sides and I fall away from her. She’s still grinning as she stalks toward me, her fingers crooked to inflict another tickle attack.

Kicking water up at her, I turn and run laughing through the waves. A body collides with me and we go down, a jumbled tangle of arms and legs and laughter in the waves.

“There is an otter in my water,” Chloe says as I come up for air.

“No fair,” I pout. “You’re too fast with those damned long legs of yours.”

“Ooo,” she purrs, “Maxie complaining about me being too fast now. That’s not what you said last night.”

Gasping at her comment, I look around hoping no one heard her. Hundreds of people are around us, but of course no one is paying us any mind. That doesn’t stop the burning sensation on my ears and face.

“You look good in red,” Chloe says, her hands on her hips.

“Be quiet and help me up.” She takes my hand and pulls me up into her arms again. Her lips meet mine and we stand there for a while lost in each other.

“Yeah,” she whispers when we part, “I’m hella glad you came with me.”

We laugh and play for a while before I claim tiredness. Walking out of the surf to the lounges, I step into the shade of the spacious umbrella with a bit of relief.

Sitting on the lounge, I wrap the large towel around me. Chloe stays in the surf, her mismatched two piece always pulling my eyes to her.

This trip is a gift from all four of our parents, a celebration of both Chloe and I finishing school. Knowing they must have been saving for quite a while to give us this touches me deeply. Especially David and Joyce. My parents are doing well for themselves in Seattle, but Arcadia Bay still presents a struggle to its inhabitants.

We haven’t told our parents yet about Pricefield Enterprises. An anonymous fund paid for Joyce’s house to be rebuilt and neither I nor Chloe breathed a word about it. Prescott had exaggerated in his description of our little company, but not by much.

I learned that rightful Max had started working with Chloe to get her GED before that night I replaced her. Blackwell no longer held attraction to me and returning to Seattle would set me back another year. So I joined Chloe in pursing a GED. Just a couple of weeks ago we received our diplomas in the mail.

Rightful Max. The one who belongs here, not me. The dark touch of loathing creeps through the sunshine to touch my soul. The familiar urge to hurt, to feel pain, seeps into me.

**_You belong here just as much as I do._ **

Taking a deep breath, I let it out and stand up. Walking closer to the water, I kneel down and begin digging. The need to do something with my hands I redirect into digging and building. It’s something I learned, a tool to manage my pain.

**_You are strong, Max._ **

Her words whisper through my mind, reassurance that I am doing the right thing. It’s still strange having her present with me. I don’t think I could have made it this far without her. Between her and Chloe, they got me to accept help. Talking to a professional helped me far more than I realized. It’s helped Chloe as well.

Chloe collapses close by, water dripping from her short, blue hair. She’s wearing the jewelry I bought her in Bend, earrings and navel ring both. “What are we building?”

“Well, I didn’t really have a plan. I just needed to build.”

She smiles. My words tell her why I’m building and she doesn’t press it. “How about a pirate ship and pirate getaway?”

“I doubt we’ll have time for that, Chloe. We have that dinner reservation in a few hours and we still have to get ready for it.”

“Pshaw,” she huffs, “we’ll see about that.” With her help we build a passable fort-like structure on an island. Winding trenches around it serve as the ocean.

“See, ye of little faith, we built our pirate getaway!”

Something’s wrong with it though. We have a little place for the people to live, a dock for the ship, a garden, and places for the animals. It clicks then and I look up at her.

“Where will we keep our treasure, though? We didn’t build a storehouse, or other place to hide it!”

With a mischievous twinkle in her eye, she says, “This pirate doesn’t need a storehouse for her treasure. Mine is always with me.”

What? I start to protest, but comprehension dawns on me and I choke off my words. Her sand-coated hand strokes my cheek, replaced by her lips, warm and soft. My body trembles at her obvious love for me, wanting to reject it.

Knowing what the trembling means, she scoots closer and pulls me tight against her. “You deserve to be loved,” she whispers.

My hands go around her waist, needing the warm sensation of skin. Focusing on each place where our skin touches, I breath deep, letting it out slowly.

“I love you, Max.”

“I-Thank you.” Stupid Max! Can’t even tell your girlfriend you love her!

**_You’re not stupid. You do love her. It’s ok to tell her._ **

Taking another deep breath I focus on things I’ve done that required strength and courage. Saving us from the Prescott’s. Saving our parents. Standing up to myself, one of the most difficult things of all. And what I will do tonight.

Letting out another breath I make myself look at her. “I love you too, Chloe.”

Her smile widens and she kisses my nose. “Now, let’s say we get back to our room.”

“Ok. But we only have time to get ready! Our dinner reservation is in two hours. With traffic, we need to leave as early as possible.”

A thoughtful expression crosses her face as she wrinkles her brow and looks into the distance. “Two hours, huh? Wonder what will take us that long to get ready?”

Slapping her shoulder playfully, I stand and help her to her feet. “I’m not going to answer that here!”

We stride hand-in-hand up the beach toward the hotel. Suddenly, I’m in the air slung over her shoulder! “Got me my pirate booty,” she shouts as she starts running.

Laughing I beat lightly on her back. “Put me down you scalawag!”

“Never,” she shouts. Contrary to her words, she does put me down, keeping me within the circle of her arms. “I’m never letting this treasure go,” she says before she kisses me in full view of everyone.

I’m clutching at her shoulders, trying to keep my balance as my head whirls with everything she’s pouring into me. When we break, I’m breathless and captivated by her. If not for her arms I would be a puddle on the sand below. “Ok,” she says, “let’s go get ready before you get too many ideas.”

I give her a sidelong look because I’m still trying to catch my breath. Her arm slips around my waist and guides me toward the hotel.

Despite her playfulness, Chloe leaves me to get ready in peace. I’m very glad for that as my nerves have me on edge. Looking in the mirror, I double check everything. Simple knee-length black dress? Check. Small nice looking, but fun handbag? Check. Credit cards, license and other things in the bag? Check.

My hair is in my typical chin length cut. It’s so easy to care for I doubt I’ll ever change it. In a nod to my girlfriend, it’s now auburn. The memory of us dyeing our hair in Bend comes back to me. The way she looked at me, the way she touched me were things that convinced me to change its color. As she said earlier at the beach, she likes me in red.

Our trip will end in another couple of days and it will be back to Arcadia Bay. The town is not the same since Sean Prescott was arrested. While he didn’t spend any time in jail, as I predicted, things went completely out of control for him.

Kristine Prescott returned. After that, information leaked to the IRS and other Government agencies about whatever Sean was doing. That turned the Nation’s attention on Arcadia Bay in an unprecedented way. Tourism is up, as well as interest in rejuvenating the town. The Prescotts property and wealth is currently frozen by the government as they build their case.

After Arcadia Bay…well my parents still want me to attend college. They have a college fund setup for me, that should last a couple of years. I already told them I’ll only consider going to college if Chloe is there with me.

And after tonight…well I hope that won’t be an issue anymore.

Things are…hard to explain for Max and I. She showed a new ability in the stillness: she’s able to keep Chloe in the stillness without physical contact. That explained what was happening during my breakdown. She has supported me in a way I don’t deserve.

**_That’s not true._ **

She supports me in the ways that I need.

We haven’t encountered any other Max’s, nor have I wanted to visit any of the shards. She revealed that both she and the other Max had figured out how to use their ability while locked in my mind. That was how the hateful Max blocked my powers from working. What I didn’t know is they both fought for control. The Hateful Max, being more vicious in her anger, usually won.

The Hateful Max, who is no longer hateful. She visits occasionally, I suspect as a way of trying to make up for the ways she hurt me. The relationship between Chloe and I gave her ideas. Apparently she and her Chloe are working their way toward a relationship more than friendship. Me? I am content to be here, with Max and Chloe.

“Hey sista,” Chloe says as she steps from the bathroom. And my breath is blown away.

She’s wearing black slacks, a white button up shirt, and blue suspenders. I think the last time I saw her dressed somewhat formal was-no! I can’t think about that now.

“Wowsers!” It’s all I can squeak out as she saunters close to me.

“Amazeballs,” she breathes as she hooks an arm into mine and pulls me close. “So, my hipster waif. Are you going to tell me where we’re going?”

All I can do is shake my head. Words have escaped me.

She runs a hand through her spiky hair and I see she’s still wearing the earrings I bought her. A glint in her nose pulls my eyes there. The small stud I bought in Bend graces it.

Before any emotions can claim me, I open the door and pull us out of the room.

Tonight is for Chloe.

We step out of the car in front of what looks like a ramshackle place. It took the longest time to find a place good enough for her. And a lot of work to get us in tonight.

She turns to me as the car pulls away. “I thought we were going out for steak or something.”

Biting my lip, I push aside the doubts and negative feelings her words light within me. “I’m sure they have steak here.”

Nodding she turns back to the entrance, festooned with christmas lights and letting loud music out into the world. “I feel a little over dressed.”

Taking her hand in mine, I step to the entrance, pulling her with me. Giving my name to the host we wait a few moments before a young woman with an overly cheerful smile comes up to seat us.

The inside looks as rustic, or rundown, as the outside. It’s all fake of course, just a themed restaurant to match the clientele they want to attract. But I’m pretty sure Chloe is among that group. Her head is nodding to the fast-paced beat of the band onstage as she peruses the menu.

The anxiety within me begins to bleed away as I see her enjoying herself. In between our drinks and the meal being served, she pulls me onto the dance floor for a couple of dances. I’m sure my dancing is quite forgettable, but hers draw more than one look of admiration from others.

Our meal comes, steak for her and salmon for me. My nerves are starting to climb again as we eat and my appetite disappears. The salmon is good, along with the risotto it’s served with, but I only eat a little of it.

Eyeing my meal as she finishes hers, she asks, “are you going to eat that?”

My hands have clenched the napkin on my lap. I don’t think I can make it through all this.

**_Breathe, Max, breathe. We can make it, together._ **

Listening to her, I close my eyes and take a deep breath. In and out I let the breath flow through me until the anxiety ebbs. Fingers brush mine and I open my eyes to see Chloe peering at me. Her eyebrows are arched and concern lines her face.

Swallowing, I nod and then think, wait, what did she ask me? Oh, whether I’m going to eat all my food. Smoothing the napkin on my lap, I put my fork on my plate and say, ”No. I’m not very hungry.”

Her fingers close around mine. “We can go somewhere else if this is too much.”

A weak smile crosses my lips. “No, Chloe. I want to be here. With you.” She nods but I can tell she doesn’t really believe me.

“This is an awesome place…but I’ll be happy where ever you are. We don’t have to stay.”

Letting go another deep breath I decide I better do this now. Signalling the server to clear our plates, I give another signal we arranged beforehand.

Moments after our plates are cleared, the band begins playing a different song, a familiar song. It’s not a romantic song, but for me it holds more memories than I can bear.

“Huh,” Chloe says, looking at the stage. “I haven’t heard this song in a while. I never thought I’d hear Sparklehorse in Long Beach.”

It’s now or never. Dipping my hand in my bag, my fingers wrap around a small box which I place onto my lap.

“Chloe Elizabeth Price,” I say, my voice trembling, “you have shown me more love and care than I deserve.” I swallow the lump that forms when she looks at me. My eyes fall to my hands as I try to keep my courage. “When we reconnected last October…this is the song that was playing…I wanted it…” Oh god this is so hard!

**_Breathe. You can do this!_ **

Summoning all the courage I can find, I raise my eyes to her. Her expression is unreadable and I’m too tangled up emotionally to try. Placing the box on the middle of the table, my hand pulls away like I dropped something hot. But her hand shoots out and captures mine.

Her eyes go from me to the box. There’s no mistaking what it is.

“Chloe Elizabeth Price. Would you do me the honor of becoming my wife?”

Her look is the dearest thing in the world. “Max,” she says in such a way that I couldn’t look away even if I tried. “Each day you continue to amaze me. You did all this…to propose to me?” Her other hand waves around at the people and music, the place that is so her. I nod.

She smiles and all the anxiety and fear and tangled nerves melts away. “Open the box, and put the ring on my finger,” she says.

Slipping my hand from hers, I open the box and pull out the ring. Taking her hand in mine, I slip the ring onto her finger. “Hell yes, I want to marry you, Max Caulfield,” she says.

Her hand slips from mine as she stands suddenly, her chair toppling over. With a voice clear and strong that cuts through everything, she announces, her eyes never leaving mine, “My girlfriend just asked me to marry her!”

She thrusts her hand with the ring into the air as the music and voices around us falls silent. Bodies move as people turn to look at us. In a moment that normally would have me ducking my head and trying to get away, I am entranced by the way she looks at me.

Everything falls away and there is only Chloe. In her clear voice she continues, “and I said Yes!”

She brings me to my feet and we are the only people in the world. Her arms slip around me as she holds me close and we kiss. What happened next, I don’t know because my heart filled with something missing for so long: unbounded joy.

Chloe being Chloe, wants to rush out and get married right away. Making the point that our parents, if no one else, should be there helps temper that enthusiasm. Her hands though are a different story.

It takes us longer than normal to return to Arcadia Bay. In part it’s because we take State Highway One, up the coast. Another reason is because Chloe wants to celebrate so we stop often and we get to know a lot more motels on our way up the California and Oregon coast.

It’s our third night on the trip, and we’re in Crescent City, a town whose name is bigger than it is. We’re lying in bed, me tucked against her, when she says, “I’d like to plan the wedding.”

Leaning up to look at her, I say, “And what will I do?”

She smiles and says, “Advise. I’ve…actually been thinking about this for a while.”

“You Chloe? You’ve been thinking about a wedding?” The doubt in my voice is only too real.

“Believe it or not, Max, I’ve been thinking about it since we were kids. So I have a few ideas…”

That catches me by surprise and I sit up bringing the sheet with me. She doesn’t mind that she’s exposed; she probably wouldn’t even if other people were around. It’s her I look at though, the real her glimpsed through that cocky smile and the way she owns the bed just by being in it.

Taking her hand, the one that should be wearing the ring, I say, “Ok, but please not something really extravagant?”

“Oh you know me, go big or go home.” But the grin she has fades into a soft smile. “We can have a big party anytime. The wedding is about us. About you and I and our love for each other.”

My head tilts as she says these things. “Who are you and what did you do with my Chloe,” I say.

She laughs and I know it’s her by the way the sound brings me joy. Her fingers trace designs on me that make me shiver. Reaching up, her arms pull me to her.

I don’t remember much about the rest of the trip. Chloe wastes no time in setting up a special meal with my parents, Joyce and David. We have the meal in Portland where we announce our engagement. That is the happiest I’ve seen any of them, even David.

My mom and Joyce immediately begin talking wedding plans, and Chloe lets them down gently. Joyce looks disbelieving when she reveals she’s been thinking about a wedding for a long time. I’m glad I’m not the only one with that doubt.

With college plans looming, we decide to keep the engagement short. Letting her sentimental side show, Chloe tells me she wants to get married on October 11th. When I protest, she tells me, “I want you to forever remember that date as the day you chose me.” What could I say to that?

The days turn into weeks and the day of our wedding draws ever closer. She keeps details of the wedding close to her heart. All I know is I’m to choose my own dress and write my own vows. I’m sure she’s shared some details with our moms, but they are not sharing with me. Not even my favorite pouty face gets anything from Chloe.

It’s the week of the wedding and she’s driving us to Mendocino county in California. That’s all I know. Unlike the previous trip, she takes us down I-5, quick and direct until we reach Highway 20 at Williams. That part is windy and slow, especially around Clearlake. For me it passes quickly as I try to get more information from her.

When I asked why Mendocino and not Napa Valley or San Francisco, she said, “We’re pirates, Max. We have to marry by the sea and not in the midst of a city!”

“Then, why not Arcadia Bay? It’s by the sea.”

Her hand touches my face tenderly. “Because I want your memory of our wedding to be untainted by what happened there.”

One thing I did learn during the past weeks is she had wanted to be the one to propose. She hid it very well, but she was both surprised and deeply moved when I proposed. That didn’t stop her from getting me an engagement ring, a simple one to match my style.

In Mendocino there is little for me to do. She keeps me away from where ever the wedding is. The little town is just my thing though, with little shops and a thriving art community. Those keep me busy while she’s off preparing. I’m fairly certain that is another reason Chloe chose the place.

The day finally arrives and we’re both up early. Everything becomes a whirl of activity. Chloe stays by my side through all of it. The only time she disappears is to dress. She teases me that it’s bad luck to see the bride before the ceremony. I’m not sure if she means me, or herself.

My dress is simple, well as simple as a wedding dress can be. Plain white, with few frills, and a hint of gold woven through it. The small train, a concession to Chloe, that is detachable, glides behind me. Per Chloe’s wishes I’m also wearing a little more makeup than I normally do.

“I want the girl I marry to be the most beautiful person in the room,” she told me when she asked me to wear just a little more. I know it will help the photos turn out better, but that’s not why I’m doing it. I’m doing it because I love her.

Outside the Bed & Breakfast a car awaits to take me to our wedding. The weather is still warm and the day is fog free. That’s a rarity in this area at this time of year. Once in the car, I spread my hands on my lap, tilt back my head and close my eyes.

Max?

**_Yes?_ **

_Yes?_

I start, not expecting both of them to answer. Of course she would want to see how I’ve risen above the low she brought me to. A slight smile touches my lips.

Thank you for not giving up on me.

**_You’re welcome._ **

The car stops and we are in front of a stand of trees, with no buildings in sight. The driver opens the door for me. Stepping out, I look around. My hand clutches a small bouquet. The driver hands me an envelope.

Puzzled, I open it. Inside I find a crudely drawn map. Rotating it a few times I figure out where I am on the map. An arrow points toward the trees. On the other side of the trees is a large red X. Stepping closer, I look at the trees. A couple near the road have ribbons on them. I’m glad I’m wearing flats. That was one thing I would not compromise on.

Behind me the door closes and the car leaves. I walk into the trees. In the distance is the sound of surf, breaking against rocks or a cliff. I begin to see colored ribbons tied to the trees. Red, Blue, and Gold, the colors we chose for our wedding.

My next step takes me out of the small forest and into the open. I immediately stop. A small field, with some wild flowers, sweeps down from the trees toward the sea. Waves crest and roll toward the land. A gentle breeze washes the area. The scents of ocean and trees and flower mingle to create a heady experience.

Near the edge of the bluff is a group of people. Most of them are seated but there is a small cluster near the front. I don’t see blue hair anywhere. My fingers begin to twitch on my bouquet.

Someone steps to my side, causing me to turn. My father holds his arm out to me. He’s dressed in a black tux with red and gold accents, my colors. “Shall we,” he asks and his voice breaks a little.

Standing on my toes, I place a kiss on his cheek then take his arm. “We shall,” I say and my own voice wavers.

Arm in arm we walk toward the people. As we draw closer I begin to recognize them. Family, close friends, and the very few “must invites” are the only people present. My eyes don’t really focus on faces, there’s only one person I want to see right now. And I don’t see her anywhere.

My father stops near a tall person standing at the edge of the assembly of seats. All I can see is the person’s back, which isn’t much. Tall, with a long black coat, black boots, and black hat. It looks like some kind of sailors hat. My father clears his throat and the person turns.

The sounds and smells and bright light all fade away as she looks at me. Standing before me, dressed like a pirate going to a formal gala, is Chloe. Her blue hair is tucked under a black three-cornered hat trimmed in blue. The long coat is also trimmed in blue. Under it is a puffy white shirt, black slacks, and some kind of blue sash around her waist. Pinned to her lapel is a large red paper X.

None of that matters because the way she looks at me makes me forget where we are and why. I look at all of her, all of her. The way she stands, the way she looks, the way she smells, all of it I take in to make part of myself.

With a cocky smile she leans close. “You’re doing it again,” she says with a purr.

“Wuh? Doing what?”

“Taking a picture.”

And she’s right. I’m taking a picture of the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen. A breath slowly leaves my body as I look at her, wanting this moment to stretch into eternity. A broad smile has captured my face from the joy her presence brings. She disentangles me from my dad and hooks her arm with mine.

“Ready cap’n,” she says with a playful grin.

“Ready,” I reply with a nervous giggle.

“You are the most beautiful girl here,” she whispers. My cheeks warm at her compliment and I look down bashfully.

“Thank you,” I manage to whisper.

She leads me to the front where a few people are standing: the official who’ll marry us, Joyce and my dad as the witnesses. My mom sits in the front row next to David. Once we stop, the official begins speaking, but I don’t know what he says. My entire focus is locked on Chloe.

Suddenly, she’s nudging me and I blink. “Your vows,” she mouths. Oh!

Taking a breath to calm myself, I turn to face her.

“Chloe Elizabeth Price, you have been my friend since kindergarten. You have stayed my friend and given me the support and love I needed through the happiest times, and darkest times of my life. You have always been the Captain of my heart even when we weren’t together.

“You have been the lighthouse in the storm of my life, guiding me to safety. When I was at my lowest, you never gave up on me. I have loved you since before I knew what love is or means. I promise to love you as much as you have loved me, to guide you in your darkness back to safety, to care for you even when you don’t care for yourself. My heart is forever yours.”

Taking my hands in hers, Chloe looks into my eyes. With a sly grin, she says, “Max, never Maxine, Caulfield, you are my everything. You are my treasure that can never be plundered, my booty that can never be taken. Without you, my ship will flounder, without you there is no Max and Chloe.

“I am honored to be your wife, to be the Co-Captain of this marriage. I am honored that you found me worthy to ask aboard your vessel to navigate life together. To you I promise to value and love and cherish like the treasure that you are.”

Her words stirs that joy in my heart, the joy that took root a few weeks ago. The official says some other words I don’t hear. Well, I do hear one word: kiss.

Her arms are around my neck and mine are around her waist. We pull each other close and melt into each other.

Distantly, there are more words and applause. It washes over me in a soft roar that I barely hear. Chloe is the only thing that matters. My wife.


End file.
